


To Find One's Purpose

by Lady_Of_The_Rune_Rose



Series: Tales of Orsterra [1]
Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure, Developing Relationships, F/M, Hidden Feelings, Just four people trying to get through their journeys, M/M, Romance, Some creativity here and there but mostly sticks to canon, Spoilers for all chapters of the cast, Starting a campfire with no experience type of slow burn, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-02 09:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 50,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15793494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Of_The_Rune_Rose/pseuds/Lady_Of_The_Rune_Rose
Summary: The fate the Gods have created for the people of Orsterra works in mysterious ways, especially for those that have lost their sights on what their true purposes are. Even against their own free will, four travelers are brought together to find their own reasons for living. Will they find what they seek? Love? Or something far more sinister that is beyond that of the Twelve Gods?





	1. The Answer

Merchants often weave tall tales of the places they've gone to, places full of wonders and dread alike. They stretch the truth, just as a baker stretches dough, with each retelling, adding in notorious bandits and creatures of old wherever they could in order to awe their audiences which in turn causes them to ask the merchants to tell more.

The only speck of truth that remained untouched through countless retellings was that of the Sunlands' deserts.

The blistering heat was unforgiving, every breath one took while traveling through the forsaken sands taken from the traveler as if the desert was taking more and more of that person's life. The creatures, both the size of a pebble and twice the size of a warrior, that found homes in the desert have resorted to stealing from and killing their own kind just to ensure their survival, resorting to even attacking and ransacking unfortunate souls that have stumbled upon their nests. Traveling merchants would often comment that the Gods purposely created the Sunlands as a minor example of what would become of the entire continent of Orsterra should humans ever dare to rise against them. If it wasn't for their exotic and rich wonders, they would say, they'd curse the Sunland people and deliver their goods to other towns across the continent.

Although the truth of the Sunlands was enough to scare most travelers and have them journey around the deserts through the Sea of Orsterra, never minding the creatures lurking in the waters, one man, wearing an old, brown cloak to disguise his identity and lugging three sacks full of belongings, was set on going into its heart and through it to reach the Riverlands and make his way north to Victor's Hollow.

The man looked up at the sky, the sun was starting to set but Godsdamn it was still blazing hot, "So this is the wrath of the Gods." He took off the hood of his cloak, revealing the face of Olberic Eisenberg, The Unbending Blade of Hornburg.

"This wrath is unrelenting. Is this what they felt towards the people of Hornburg before it was fated to fall?" Olberic contemplated on that very idea briefly, memories of his liege during times of peace becoming vivid in his mind as he questioned why the Gods have blown out the life of Hornburg's last king. Visiting the ill and dying, raising the spirits of his army during times of war, treating prisoners of war with respect and kindness, ordering shrines to be built in tribute to the Twelve Gods, there was not a single action that his liege had done that could have angered the Gods. The people of Hornburg always respected him and looked to him for advice and guidance. With his wisdom and kindness, how could they not?

He shook his head, grief clinging onto his heart as he remembered his dear king, "No. King Alfred was a kind and understanding king, meeting the needs of his people as best he could while maintaining the kingdom's peace when war threatened it." His mind then drifted to Erhardt.

Over the years, Olberic's anger and confusion over his brother-in-arms and his betrayal haunted Olberic beyond belief. The ever twisting emotions joined by Olberic's inability to protect the person he swore to use his blade for were the very things that kept him awake for countless nights over the course of the last eight years. It was as if his reason for fighting went into the afterlife along with King Alfred's soul. "Even if Erhardt had a motive to wield his sword of betrayal and drive our kingdom to ruin by killing our king, I have no room in my heart to forgive him. He not only betrayed his king and our comrades but also those living in Hornburg that had bright futures." Even though his dear comrade and friend had done such a thing, he couldn't label his strong sentiment towards him as hatred. Not without knowing why he did what he had done. He sighed and put his hood back on, "But...is finding Erhardt…and…is truly my reason for carrying my sword? "

Olberic just wasn't sure.

He pressed on in his trek through the Southern Sunshade desert, cautious of where he placed his steps in the hopes that he did not stumble upon a monster's nest. He heard from a townsperson back home, an old man who was once a well known merchant in Orsterra for selling Cobblestone goods, that there was a small city, a rest stop for many weary travelers, named after the very desert Olberic was traveling through.

" _You'll know you're close to the city once you see pots covered by red fabric_ ," the townsperson told Olberic as he was packed the night before he left his home, " _The trick to not getting lost in the desert is following the red flags. They're used by merchants who are either trying to get out of the desert or into the three major towns of the Sunlands to do their business._ " The old man heckled and laughed, " _If you stop seeing the flags after a while,_ well, _you might as well start digging your grave and bury yourself before a Sandworm feeds you to its larvae!_ " Surely that was a joke rather than actual advice?

He came upon the pots the old man spoke about and, beyond them, a bridge leading into the town of Sunshade stood before him. A stop to rest and fill up on water didn't sound like a bad plan for Olberic, who was weary from traveling in an area drastically different from the Highlands.

As he neared closer and closer to Sunshade, Olberic realized how different the old man's version of Sunshade was to the actual town itself. " _Ah, Sunshade,_ " the old man, closing his eyes as if to recall the very memory of first being in the city, " _the city of pleasures! A city with a bazaar full of shops so beautifully adorned, a town full of exotic wonders just waiting to be discovered!_ "

The beautiful city described to Olberic that night was nothing in comparison to the dingy old town that stood in front of Olberic. The buildings, which seemed to be much smaller and closer together than those back in Cobblestone, were made of sandstone that had been worn out through decades of sandstorms and possible battles. The bazaar, which looked more like a small market square to Olberic, had small shops that sold food, pottery, fabrics, and medicinal herbs but the ' _exotic wonders_ ' that the old man spoke about were no where to be seen.

Olberic laughed at himself, ' _It seems I've fallen victim into believing a merchant's tall tale._ ' Seeing that night has fallen, he located the inn, the eyes of several suspicious ruffians and guards following the warrior.

"New blood." Olberic heard one ruffian whisper to the other as he made his way towards the building.

"Yeah, but I wouldn't mess with him if I were you," the other whispered back, "take a look at the size of his sword! I bet the man has cut down at least dozens of men."

Olberic silently answered the ruffian back, ' _Close, but try countless platoons._ ' He thought back to his many battles on the outskirts of Hornburg and how he struck down multiple enemies trying to get close to his king. How naive he was thinking that his king was safe when the true enemy was right at his side for so many years?

Olberic entered the inn. In front of him sat the innkeeper at a desk with a notebook that probably held records of the people that were staying at the inn. The innkeeper was a middle aged woman who had the face of a laborer and skin tanned by the sun over decades of working beneath it. "Can I help you sir?" her voice was soft yet raspy. She opened her notebook, a quill pen in her hand, prepared to write a record of her new customer.

Olberic smiled at the first friendly face he'd seen since the start of his adventure, "I'd like to rent out one of your rooms for a single night -" The old man's advice about the Sunshade inn resurfaced as he spoke to the woman. He had told Olberic about a deal for merchants that would be a bit pricey but well worth it if he was willing to take pay for it. Olberic was already hesitant about taking his word for it seeing as the old man's tales about Sunshade were far from the truth. Second time's the charm right? He continued, "and I'd like to do the Genishu deal for tonight."

The innkeeper looked at him with a raised brow as if to judge him. She then proceeded to look at him from feet up and then back down before grabbing a sheet of paper, adorned at the edges with silver, and began writing down in what looked like the written language of the Sunlands. "Where are you from dear? Do you have a name?" Her soft tone changed to that of a monotone one which was slightly strange to Olberic.

"My name is Berg and I hail from Hor-Cobblestone" Even after all these years, Olberic still wasn't accustomed to referring Cobblestone as his true home.

She continued to write the letter until she signed it at the very bottom. She folded the letter in half and looked down at her desk, reaching for something with her hand. When she grasped it, she stood up from her chair, went around the desk, and handed Olberic a key, "Your room will be the first door up the stairs to your left. You can leave your seven hundred leaves on my desk." With room key on hand, he watched the innkeeper, letter in hand, exit the inn.

Although it was a bit strange for the innkeeper to take leave so sudden and so late into the night, especially in a town with ruffians, Olberic barely thought anything of it as left his leaves where she specified and went up to his room. It was a simply decorated one with the only furniture being a bed, a desk, and a chair. The room was dimly lit by the single candle on the desk.

The only thing that was out of place in his room was a vase full of red primroses sitting at the corner of the desk. Olberic pulled off his glove and gently took one of the petals between his index finger and thumb. It was a real red primrose. While primroses themselves were a common flower, blooming in nearly every hedgerows or on banks in the wild, more lush places of Orsterra, red primroses only grew in the Highlands, more notably around Hornburg. He picked one up from the vase to take in its sweet fragrance, the smell of the primrose bringing him back to a much simpler time.

_"Mother! Look what I found for you!" Hands that were still not shaped from war grasped a bouquet full of red primroses. He found himself back home with his mother in the rural part of Hornburg where the skies looked so much bluer and clearer than anywhere else on the continent, the fields so much greener._

_His mother, wearing a long white sundress adorned with red lace at the edges of every opening, stood in awe_ at _the sight of the delicate flowers, "Red primroses? Here in the Highlands?" She inspected them for signs of disease but found none. "We'll have to put these beautiful lovely ladies in cold water real soon. Show me where you found them so we can plant some in the garden together." Giving her son a wink, a sign of good fortune to come, "I have no doubt that we'll soon be the greatest florists because of this new discovery!"_

 _'A kind woman'_ , Olberic thought sadly as he placed the flower back in the vase. Just as a flower's beauty wilts, so did his mother's life, a life taken too soon.

Olberic slumped down on his bed, exhaustion hitting him as he did. Although he had found plenty of places scattered throughout the desert that were high enough to protect him from dangerous nightcrawler, Olberic slept very little in fear that Erhardt's trail might go cold soon if he did not find him soon. He had plenty of food thanks to the inhabitants of Cobblestone but his water supply had run low and, if Sunshade didn't exist, he surely would've died of dehydration. Thankfully he had more than enough coin to buy him enough water to last him the next three years if he so wished.

He unbuckled the belt that held his sword to him and placed it on the desk. He then dropped his baggage, thinking back to his time in Cobblestone as he carefully laid down two of the sacks filled with his provisions, herbs, leaves, and coins. Three days prior to Olberic's departure, the whole town had gathered up whatever they had to spare and filled up two sacks to the brim with necessities. Although the gesture moved the proud warrior of Hornburg and that such provisions would be needed for such a journey, he tried to politely turn it down only for the village headman to guilt him into taking them.

" _I'm sure you know that it would bring great dishonor to yourself if you turn down the village's gift to you_ ," he laughed as he handed the two sacks to Olberic, who took them with much hesitation, " _it's quiet rude actually_!"

Olberic smiled upon remembering the villagers' kindness. "I wonder how they're faring," his mind turned to the men that were sworn to protect the village, "Three days just isn't enough to teach years of swordsmanship but they're much more stronger fighting together as one. The village is in the good hands of strong men and an even stronger headman." He takes off his cloak and then his blue tunic, the sound of the metal shoulder guards and bracers hitting the floor rings through the room. Relief washed over his body after days of always wearing his shoulder guards and bracers, it'll be a while before he gets used to wearing them again.

As he massages his shoulders to ease the tension, Olberic thinks of Phillip and his mother, "That young lad will grow up to be a fine man. He has the potential to one day protect his loved ones from any ruffian or bandit that dare cross his path. I have no doubt that, one day, he'll even go beyond me in terms of physical strength and mental fortitude." He took pride in helping Philip slowly become the man he was destined to become.

He then thinks back to his liege and Erhardt, ' _Perhaps if I was stronger or wiser I could've prevented disaster from striking._ ' A profound emptiness hits him. He sighs the thought away and takes off his white shirt, leaving his chest and back, full of scars from his younger days, exposed.

Olberic knelt down on the side of the bed and closes his eyes, beginning to speak softly, a wish disguised as a prayer that will only bring about nothing. His mother raised him to follow the path of Sacred Flame and that prayer would bring about the promise of answers to any and all of their worries. Despite what his mother had taught him about the Twelve Gods, he never received an answer when he asked why the Gods took away his father before he was born. He asked why the Gods allowed his mother to die so young just before he was knighted.

No answer was ever given to him.

If the Gods haven't given him an answer to his questions after so many years then why would they wait until now to do so?

"Oh Scared Flame," it seemed rather silly for him to speak to people that were not physically even there after so many years but he continued, "guide me so that I may come to understand the reason I still wield my blade. If all of my comrades have long died before me then why do I still live? What is my purpose for being here? Am I to avenge my fallen kingdom by finding the person that caused its fall? Or is there some greater evil that I will face?" An answer, a whisper, a vision, anything would do for Olberic so that clarity would shine over his worries.

But there was nothing but silence.

Although he should have expected to be greeted with no answers, he was disappointed. Instead of letting the prayer going unheard, he developed an answer of his own, ' _Finding Erhardt will be my purpose for now._ '

A soft knock on the door interrupts his thoughts and, before he could mutter out anything, the door started to open. Olberic turned to to see who it was, prepared to quickly grab his sword and strike the intruder down if necessary but quickly froze as he laid his eyes upon the person that stood at the door.

A woman stepped inside into his room and stood at the doorway. She reached a hand out to Olberic, her gold bangles clanked with each other.

"Sir Berg?" Words purred out of her mouth, sending chills down Olberic's spine. As if he was under a spell, he could not turn away from her beauty. "It seems fate has brought us together for a very special night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First written work! (Yay!) I was never good at writing stories but practice makes perfect (especially if you set your mind to it)!
> 
> I'm probably going to make this a trilogy so please bear with me!
> 
> Please give me advice on how to improve my writing or if you simply like the idea! c: I'm super open to accepting advice and I'll do my best to improve my writing!
> 
> ALSO please note this is a slow burn work with both relationships (PrimxOlberic being much more slower than AlfxTherion) and that the actual fluff and romance won't come until later chapters~! (It's going to be a long ride but I can only hope you all will enjoy riding my ships with me!)


	2. The Dancer and The Singer

Just as the army of Hornburg was a force known to everyone in Orsterra, the women of Hornburg, brought into the world by rich and poor families alike, were the jewels of the kingdom that were at the very center of every man's life should they had the pleasure of courting one with a fierce yet kind soul.

Often during holidays, King Alfred's wife, Queen Mirabella, would host balls inviting the greatest houses of the kingdom and the knights that served the royal family well throughout the years. Such balls brought opportunities to many knights to find a fair lady they would swear to use their blade for. While Olberic, a knight not particularly known to have the smoothest words or best dancing skills at such events, found himself captivated by a few lovely ladies of the court, he would find them flocking to gain the attention and praise of Erhardt, the complete opposite of Olberic when it came to almost everything that didn't have to do with battling and drinking.

Erhardt would walk with his brother-in-arms back to their homes and jab at the other's lack of having the ability to attract women along the way. "Finding a woman that deserves to have your blade protect her is not a battle for the kingdom!" Battling and acting according to the knight's code was all Olberic was truly skilled in. Having never been with a woman - let alone one that he was interested in - Olberic found it difficult to tear down his stoic personality around them, a fact Erhardt knew all too well.

"All a lady wants in a man," Erhardt advised Olberic, "is someone that will accept her for who she is. The good, the bad, the flawed, everything and share moments that are important to her, moments that she would hope her true love would find to be just as important to him." He slung his arm over Olberic's shoulder, pulling him close as if to finally uncover the real secret to success, "They're not plotting to disguise a romantic relationship as an attempt to steal your soul! Next time you speak to a lady, don't just stand around as if you were a statue incapable of expressing emotion!"

Bringing himself back into the present where he stood ever so still in front of the dancer that gracefully stepped into his room, Olberic realized at that moment that he never truly took Erhardt's advice.

She was beautiful. Long auburn hair tied up into a ponytail, keeping her face, her beauty, clear from stray locks of hair and the finest blood red top and slitted skirt adorned with a hip belt made of gold, there was no doubt in Olberic's mind that this was the exotic wonder of Sunshade the old man must have expressed to him. The gold jewelry adorning her neck was nothing compared to her amber eyes, eyes that petrified the warrior.

In an attempt to find his composure in such an encounter, Olberic broke their gaze. If it was due to his indecency of having his bare chest exposed in front of a lady he hardly knows or that he couldn't bear to gaze at her any longer he would never know. Perhaps it was both. He found words to utter, "It's dreadfully late, what business do you have here?"

The dancer at the door seemed amused by the man's naive and awkward state, it was obvious to her that the man didn't realize that her arrival was something that he himself caused. She closed the door behind her, locking it, and chuckled, "My business is with you, my dear Berg." Thankfully, she did not know of the man's true identity. She started making her way towards Olberic, every step closing the gap between them. "You do realize what the deal is, correct?"

The dancer was at an arm's length by the time Olberic assessed the situation at hand. The exotic wonders, the pricey deal that cost an arm and a leg of leaves, and how the old man giggled in glee upon recalling such memories, it all made sense to Olberic now!

"I-I think I have made a mistake." Olberic muttered, his face feeling hot as the dancer stood directly in front of him, her hands tracing the deep scar in the middle of his chest.

She looked up at him, a gentle curiosity in her eyes, as her other hand gently greeted his tense shoulders. "A mistake? Surely you've come to experience a show beyond your wildest dreams that only could be found her in Sunshade?" The hand on Olberic's chest had started making its way south, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.

That was when Olberic remembered that, although he was no longer one, he was a knight, a knight bound by a code of chivalry. Regardless of the reason for her actions are from her own free will or assigned instructions, what sort of man would he be if he allowed himself to ignore his gallantry to indulge himself? He closed his eyes, resisting what his body was telling him to do, and gently held both of the dancer's hands, surprising the alluring woman. "No," he explained as he lowered their hands, "I had no idea that paying such a lofty price for a stay would bring such beautiful face such as yourself to appear before me. I simply came to rest before continuing on my journey."

He felt her take a step back. Did he offend her by declining her advances on him? Olberic met her gaze again only to find himself lost in her eyes that were questioning and full of . . . relief? She crossed her arms as if to say that she would not leave without an answer. "I feel quite hurt that you would say no to such a lovely lady like me." She teased, landing Olberic into her guilt trap.

"Forgive me, I didn't want to disrespect you."

She laughed at him, "Disrespect me? I'm afraid it's already too late for that, my dear Berg." There was a taint of faked sadness with the words that came out of her lips. Before she would exit her stage, slightly earlier than her usual cue, her curiosity of the traveler in front of her got to her. "What do you hope to find on this journey you're on?"

It was a question that Olberic asked himself for eight long years. Even with such a long time to figure out the answer, he wasn't sure what to tell her. Telling her the whole story would give away his identity and would put him at the risk of news of him finding itself with Erhardt, a risk he couldn't afford to take just yet. He thought back to his liege and the anger he felt when he was killed, a void in his heart that was filled with the idea of finding Erhardt and redeeming himself from not being able to protect the one that put his faith in. Olberic, feeling the void in his heart, spoke to the dancer, "Long ago I lost to someone that threatened someone very dear to me. My defeat had led to that person's demise and I'm determined to find the person that slaughtered him to -"

"Exact revenge." The dancer's words cut through Olberic's thoughts like a knife. The alluring and charming mask the woman created before she entered the room cracked revealing a face painted with pain and struggle. Before Olberic could ask her what caused to come to that conclusion, the dancer quickly turned, the candle's flame flickering towards her as she moved past it and made her way to exit a stage not meant for her. She opened the door, turning her head to meet the confused expression on his face, "I wish you the best of luck on your journey then. I bid you a good night, sir."

Did this woman know something about Erhardt as well? It was doubtful she knew anything about him. Was it simply just her correctly assuming his plan of action once he found Erhardt? Most likely, but the look in the woman's eyes gave him a different impression on why she said what she said. The look in her eyes was one that he was well acquainted with, for he surely had the same gaze for the first few years following the fall of Hornburg. Grief, confusion, pain, and regret at the slight memory of that fateful day.

He and the dancer were not so different.

Out of the several thoughts that were scattered across his mind, only one made it out just before she was out the door, "Forgive me for asking but what is your name?"

They met each other's eyes again, her gaze signaling that she would not give the answers about their supposed similarity. "For my sake, it's best to forget my existence." With that, she was gone, the door closed shut.

She had left just as she came, like a mere mirage of the desert. Left with more questions than answers, Olberic snuffed the candle's flame and climbed onto his bed. He kept thinking about the woman, her face ingrained into his memory even against her wishes, 'Whatever it is she's looking for, I can only hope she has better luck finding it than I ever will.'

 

* * *

 

The only things that brought her comfort on nights such as this were the moon and the stars, the same night sky her and her father used to sit under many years hundreds of moons ago. The dancer sat outside the inn for far too long than she was expecting, not paying any mind to the few bandits down the street that gazed upon her as if she were the most precious water of the desert. If they were to even come near and breathe the same air as her, her Master would make sure that they would for any damages to his property with their life.

She replayed the conversation she had with her most recent client in her head. Upon realizing that the man was looking to exact revenge, old memories of her father, cruelly slain in front of her very eyes as she stood by and did nothing as the men responsible left her father to bleed out, resurfaced. Although most nights she would tolerate such memories and hateful thoughts, allowing them to resurface only to fuel her drive for revenge, there are moments when the possibility of finding the men responsible would ever be anything more than a simple wish. If the man was already set on finding the person he was looking for, it was safe to assume he had a trail to follow. Besides the memories of her dear father, the pain of having nothing but a mere rumor pained the dancer so. Had she stayed, there is no doubt that she would have told her tale only to have the man offer to accompany him so that perhaps they both would find what they sought for.

She shook her head at the possibility had she remained. This was her revenge and she would be the one to take the lives of the three men by herself with her father's dagger. Be it because of sheer stubbornness or the fear of betrayal, she refused to have anyone, let alone a man that might use her to fulfill his wishes just as every man had used her years before, join her on her mission.

She stood up, cleaning the sand and the dirt off her legs and skirt, and gave the moon one last glance, "I do hope, however, you find what you're searching for." The dancer made her way to her living quarters, expecting the sun to rise and shine on a new day, a day bringing business as usual.

 

* * *

 

The following morning, Olberic thanked the innkeeper for her hospitality, leaving out the detail of his encounter, and made his way to the small market to find water. Filling up two canteens full to the brim with water turned out to be more expensive than he expected. The merchant selling the water explained that water is more valuable than most precious ores found in the Sunlands and, in some towns, is sometimes substitutes leaves as currency.

"Mayhaps I should bring an entire lake from the Highlands next time," Olberic joked with the man as he placed his canteens in his sack, "I would become the richest man on the continent if I did!"

The merchant smiled and pointed a finger at the large building down the street, "Mayhaps you should! With that sort of money, you could place one of these types of taverns in every village! Wouldn't that make the world a more cheery place?" Olberic turned to the big building that looked more like a theater than an actual tavern, his curiosity didn't escape the keen eye of the merchant, "A foreigner are ya? Don't tell me ye were about to leave without visiting our well-known tavern! If ye have at least a mere moment to spare, please visit it before yeer on your way!"

"I think I'll take you up on that offer." After all, Olberic was never one to dismiss a reason to partake in having a good drink.

Passing by a guard who had a little too much to drink, evident by the way he clumsy took his steps, Olberic entered the tavern. Inside stood a grand stage and multiple tables filled with people even though it was much too early for this many people to be in the tavern. One of the ladies dressed much like the woman in red from the night before but instead in much simpler garments glanced at Olberic and made her way towards him. "Welcome to our humble tavern," She said sweetly, "What would you like to drink, handsome?"

"What do recommend?" He replied, it was always a tradition back in the old days for him and many of his fellow knights to try what servers recommended when visiting new lands.

"A popular drink here is Sealticge's Dawn, shall I order one for you, dear?" Olberic nodded at her recommendation. She took out a small notebook and jotted down the order, pointing at the empty table by the corner of the stage as she kept writing, "Please take a seat and we'll be ready with your drink before you know it!" She made her way to the bar on the right, barking orders at the poor gentleman behind the bar that was busy brewing and mixing multiple other drinks.

He sat down at his table, observing the many faces of the people around him. Some were young and some looked much too old to be drinking, but they all seemed free of any troubles the world presented them with or perhaps they were choosing to leave their troubles for another day as they drank their worries away. As he looked around, he noticed that four dancers entered the tavern. Three of them were dressed in the same garments as the servers while the fourth's was much more refined with her outfit being the color of a clear blue sky and made of pure silk, her short black hair contrasting that of the other three's brown hair. Now Olberic could see why merchants went out of their way to visit this lonely town in the middle of the desert for the dancers of Sunshade had a certain alluring beauty that was unique to each of them.

The three dancers were laughing and snickering to each other, gracefully walking to what looked like the entrance to the main stage. They formed a line right in front of it, awaiting orders from a blond young man who was busy coordinating and planning to have them perform on stage. Olberic was sitting close enough to overhear just what they were talking about.

"Can you believe that woman?" One of the dancers with a thick ponytail sneered to the other two, "So full of herself just because she's master's favorite!"

The other, with long black hair, chimed in with her, "Her dancing is just as good as the rest of us I don't understand what people see in her." The dancer scoffed, tossing her hair behind her shoulder, "If it's her beauty that gets men and women salivating at the mere thought of being in the same bed with her, well, I'd slap all of them upside the head! Just one look at her pathetic face makes me want to hurl!"

The third one twirled her chocolate short hair, eyes lighting up as if she came up with a brilliant plan, "Such a shame that such a delicate little flower like her doesn't have a thorn at her side like the rest of us. Perhaps we should gift her something to really be hurt about." She beckoned the other two to come closer and whispered something that Olberic couldn't make out.

Whatever it was, it was enough for the other two to clap with glee. The fourth dancer, however, was unamused at their happiness. "You three are despicable witches," her words cut through the other three's joy, even Olberic was taken aback with her tone of voice, "Don't you three ever get tired of making her life a living hell?"

The girl shot her a cold look that made the dancer in blue back down, "Our lives are nothing but full of torture with every passing day! But for her? I bet she enjoys every single second of it with all of the attention and adoration she gets!"

"You don't understand," The dancer in blue started, "We're all-"

The blond haired gentleman snapped his fingers at the four of them, grabbing their attention and cutting off the other girl's defense. "Ladies! If you all insist on continuing to fight amongst each other, why don't you all take it out through dancing!" He pointed at the crowd of people that have gathered in the tavern, "We have customers waiting to be satisfied so make their coin worth it! Unless… all of you would rather deal with Halgenish's wrath?"

His voice was sharp and threatening towards them, the mere mention of the name that the man uttered caused the four of them to be struck by fear. This attitude towards them baffled Olberic. The women of Cobblestone and even Hornburg, especially entertainers, were treated with much more respect than anyone else. If dancers were the most sought-after treasure of those that visit Sunshade, why were they being treated like property?

"I'll take that silence as an 'I'd rather dance!' Well, get up on that stage and earn the coin to feed us!" The four of them ran up the stage, urgency in each of their steps, and took their places, everyone's eyes turned to the stage as they got into a starting position. The blond man cleared his voice and smiled at the crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen! Today we have a special dance to open today's show! We'll be having the sweet Yusafa take the center stage while her other three companions support her in a ballad called A Letter to Home!"

What a change in personality, Olberic thought to himself. The server he saw earlier returned with a drink on hand. "Enjoy the show!" She gleefully uttered before walking away back to the bar to retrieve and serve even more drinks to guests.

Olberic lifted his drink to his lips and chugged it down without flinching. When there was not a drop left in the mug, a sigh of relief as the strong, bitter taste burned his throat. The taste reminded him of the few people of Sunshade he had the pleasure - and misfortune - of encountering. Bitter and unforgiving, much like the desert but it did its job well. He looked at the dancers performing to the tune of a piano playing offstage. He noticed that one of the dancers - Yusafa was it? -, much to the surprise of the other three and everyone in the tavern, started singing to the tune of the song.

The three supporting dancers danced to the song on tune but each of them had parts of themselves that weighed them down. One was moving her arms as if they were made of solid rock, the other kept misplacing her steps compared to the other two, and the third's body was shaking uncontrollably from nerves. They talked so lowly about one of their fellow companions that they barely had time to even look at how they carried themselves through dancing it seemed.

Yusafa, on the other hand, had the flaws of all three of them when it came to dancing, moving off key and stumbling as if she had two left feet, but her singing was beautiful beyond measure. Her voice was enchanting, every word that slipped through her lips coming out like sweet honey. Every low and high note was matched perfectly as she sang about missing her home, a home in an unreachable place of her dreams, and wishing that she could cross the sea to see her mother with a gentle touch. It was a happy melody turned melancholy, the piano slowed down to the very last few mellow notes, Yusafa matching it by singing she would rather forget than be longing for something that was impossible.

When the performance ended, it was evident only a few in the tavern were moved. There were only a few hands raised to clap for them. The rest of the customers looked at each other in confusion since they clearly came to see alluring and beautiful dancing. He left enough coins to feed a family beside the under the empty glass as a token of his appreciation of what the server must have experienced and started to make his leave. He looked behind to see that the blond man's face has turned red with anger.

Upon remembering a memory of his younger years, something stirred in Olberic. "Don't."

The blond man looked at him, "What?"

Olberic shook his head, he thought back to what the dancers had said about living every moment in sheer suffering "Those women perform to the pleasure of the men that come to see them even though they suffer. Don't you dare threaten them again there will be consequences." Olberic threatened him, prepared to challenge the man if the man wished. Upon seeing the sword Olberic carried, the man did not say another word. With the promise of a threat still hanging in the air, he made his way out the tavern doors. Olberic silently wished the dancers luck in surviving this city of pleasures.

Just as he was about to reach the bridge leading out to the desert, he felt a blunt object hit the back of his head. Sharp pain rushed through his head and watched as the world in front of him fell. Hands moved up and down his body as if to search for something, anything, of value. A feminine voice behind them shouted at whatever was above him, causing the presence to quickly disappear. Something ran down the back of his head before closing his eyes and shutting out the world.

Then, absolutely nothing but darkness consumed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I have a headcanon that Yusufa was never a really good dancer but is actually a really good singer! I played again through Prim's story and thought that her VA had such a lovely voice!*
> 
> Advice is accepted! If you simply like it be sure to let me know! Thank you for reading this chapter!


	3. The Mark of the Crow

 

_It was always the same dream._

_A battlefield mixed with dirt, blood, and gunpowder._

_The sound of swords clashing._

_Empty words falling upon the deafened with rage._

_The face of Erhardt, emotionless, as he dug his sword into the King._

_The king's face, twisted with pain as he began to fall into Death's embrace._

_Always the same dream._

 

* * *

 

A gentle touch on the back of his head was what brought him back into reality. He opened his eyes to see that he was no longer outside on the streets of Sunshade but was in fact inside someone's home. He turned to the source of the touch to find the blue dancer, Yusufa.

She smiled at the confused man before her, "You're awake! What a relief!"

A sharp pain pulsated through the back of his head and spread to the front, causing Olberic to ease the pain by placing his hand on the source of the the pain. The last thing he remembered was getting knocked to the ground and hearing a voice call out before once again reliving the same fateful day. "Where am I?" He asked Yusufa, who was busy putting away what looked like balms and bandages in the drawer next to the bed.

"You're in the little living space master set up for us dancers to live in." The room they were in had six beds with six drawers next to all of them with thin drapes separating the bedroom from the other side of the curtains. It was safe to assume that the pair would not be alone for much longer. Yusufa sighed, "Emphasis on little but, nevertheless, it's more than enough to get by." She pointed at the back of Olberic's head, "You were knocked out by a guard that was trying to steal your sword." She nodded at the sword at her side, reassuring Olberic that it was safe.

 _But a guard?_  Before he could ask why someone hired to defend against such a thing would do such a thing, Yusufa was ready with an answer, "Compared to a lot of other towns and cities, the guards here hardly ever do their job correctly unless it favors them. The majority of them are corrupted crooks and will do almost anything to get what they want." She shut the drawer and looked back at him, "Luckily I was there to stop them. I told him that man that my dear Master would not be pleased to find out that one of his guardsmen attacked a paying customer." She rolled her eyes as if calling her Master the word  _dear_  brought a bad taste to her mouth.

Yusufa was still on stage when Olberic had walked out, how could she have gotten there at the right time to come to his rescue? "I can't thank you enough for helping me but how did you know I was in trouble?"

With a raised finger to her head, she gave him a serious look. "I'm a psychic." But the facade didn't last for more than a second before she started to giggle. Had her mask not cracked for a second longer, Olberic would have believed her. "I noticed that you talked to the show planner after our," she blushed, embarrassed at the thought of how awful she must've made herself along with the rest of the dancers look, "little show. When we met him he let us off with a warning and I knew that it must've been something you said. I ran out hoping to thank you before you disappeared and luckily I did find you but not how I pictured to meet you. As I said earlier, I threatened the guard and dragged you here to make sure you were… well not dead."

The picture of a tiny woman dragging a man twice her size must've been a sight to behold to those watching but Olberic was nevertheless grateful for her kindness. Thinking back to the man that threatened the dancers and how angry he was at Yusufa's singing and lack of proper dancing, what sort of woman ended up being in a place such as Sunshade? "You sing beautifully," he commented genuinely, "I'm surprised they didn't have you just singing instead of dancing."

Silence followed his compliment, a sadness filled Yusufa's eyes. Had he said something wrong? "Forgive me, you dance just as beautifully!" Godsdamnit why was he horrible at simply complimenting a woman?

She raised an eyebrow at him and then realization hit her. She giggled at how flustered Olberic became. Yusufa seemed to be the type of person who faced anything with a soft kindness even if she struggled, a trait that very much reminded him of Erhardt, "Don't worry, I know my dancing isn't as great as most dancers here but it's enough to let my kind face and soft voice do the rest of the work to allure patrons." The sadness came back into her eyes, "I was sold to this place when I was a child so I didn't have a choice but to dance for others. I've thought of simply leaving when I started to experience nothing but cruelty but I was so scared of Master finding out and sending guards to kill me on the spot."

"Kill you?"

She nodded, "Master has a reputation of disposing toys and tools that either disobey him or are of no use to him after he's sucked up everything they've to offer."

Disgusting. That was the only word that quickly came into his mind upon hearing the harsh reality the dancers and perhaps many of the people of Sunshade had to face. Seeing the discomfort painted on Olberic's face from learning such a fate was common in the sands of the desert caused Yusufa to mention one other thing that led to her not leaving such a dreadful place, the very source of Yusufa's strength in a wasteland full of malicious souls. "Another reason I decided to stay as long as I have is that I've met someone that I-"

The sound of the door opening cut Yusufa off, who was now alert and listening for any indication that her Master had come in. If the Helgenish found out that a man was invited into his dancers' living quarters, he would have Yusufa's head by sunset. Three sets of footsteps came through the door along with some faint giggling. The pair in the bedroom listened to one person come closer, stopping, and then walking away. Yusufa motioned at Olberic to get his attention, a single finger on her lips. They listened on but only heard whispered chattering and giggling of three women. Olberic assumed it was the three other dancers that he saw in the tavern earlier.

A moment later, the door opened again and light footsteps stepped through. The chattering stopped for a second when the door opened and continued again as soon as the individual made their way across the room. They heard the person slump down to the floor.  _Another dancer?_

"Ow!" Silence. Then the familiar sweet voice spoke softly, "… a thorn?"

_Wait, that voice!_

Another voice shot out from the other side of the room, "Oh! Someone, please fetch a handkerchief! Primrose seems to be bleeding, the poor dear!"

_"For my sake, it's best to forget my existence."_

The memory of last night came back to him. Primrose? Is that her name?

Yusufa immediately stood up upon realizing what the other three dancers had done, a look of disbelief and anger crossed her face, "I can't believe they actually decided to go through with it!"

Before Olberic could ask what she meant, she was already on her way out to meet the other four. "Perhaps she got a blister? She's always dancing oh so passionately!" The second dancer added on, ridiculing Primrose further, before continuing to talk to the other two dancers.

Yusufa came out of the bedroom to check on Primrose, blood trickling down her friend's foot as she tried to take out the rose thorn. She reached out a hand to help her up, "Are you alright, Prim?"

The dancer in red looked up at her and gladly took her friend's help. Ever since Primrose had arrived at this forbidden city of pleasures, she had lived a life of being used only to be discarded until there was a new use for her. Between Helgenish's harassment and personal usage of her, other men's heckling and want of her, and the other dancer's making her misery their own enjoyment, there was never a moment to herself. Even before she came to the city, ever since her father was murdered she's never had a moment to herself. But these thoughts, her weakness, would never be shared with anyone lest it would lead to only her being used once more.

Primrose nodded, "I'm fine. It's nothing I haven't dealt with before."

At that moment, she saw a reflection of herself in Primrose and remembered the cruelty she had suffered and endured before. The same use and abuse, the same misery, it was all slowly made tolerable because Primrose had defended her so long ago. Yusufa decided that it was her turn to return the favor. She turned to the three other dancers, who were still absorbed in their conversation, "Don't you think that's enough already? Do you all take such pleasure in others' pain?"

The Yusufa that had been cheerfully talking to and taking care of Olberic and the Yusufa ready to challenge the three other women for her friend were two completely different sides of her. Giving it a little more thought, he realized that perhaps those sides weren't so different. Much like Yusufa tended his physical wounds, Yusufa was taking care of Primrose's wounds in her own way. He kept listening to Yusufa speak about how they're all one and the same, just dancers meant to be discarded and left to die if they dared to cross their master, which frightened the other dancers. She asked why would they torment one of their own but was only greeted with silence.

Yusufa's mannerism and how she defended her friend reminded him of Erhardt when they were both training to be knights. His mind drifted back to the days when they were both aspiring knights, back to the days where no one except Erhardt believed he would become a strong knight.

 _If one were to tell other knights training alongside them back in the day that_ Olberic _would one day become the fierce Unbending Blade, they would call them a lunatic. "The son of a florist?" They would scoff as_ Olberic _trained with Erhardt in the courtyard, "I'll give him one or two enemy swordsmen before he gets killed during battle!"_

_"No! I bet he would die on the way over to the battlefield!"_

_Upon hearing these things about his friend and seeing his discomfort, Erhardt would aim his sword at them and warn them, "Say another word and you won't live to see another day." Up until his betrayal, Erhardt was always at his side._

Primrose stopped Yusufa and calmly said, "Thank you, Yusufa. But there's no need for you to make foes on my behalf."

Olberic sighed. That was the very same thing he would tell Erhardt every time he defended him.

There was a slam followed by a rough and harsh voice, "What are you doing, yowling back here!? Sheathe your claws. It's time for work! Get out there and collect your tips!"  _Was this the Helgenish everyone was afraid of_ , Olberic thought to himself.

The five followed their master's command, they formed a line and proceeded to exit the building. As soon as Yusufa tried to step out, Helgenish held her back. "Not you, Yusufa." He looked back at Primrose, his usual cheeky grin replaced with a displeased frown, "And  _especially_  not you, Primrose."

Helgenish made his way to the other side of the room, dangerously close to where Olberic was behind the drapes. Yusufa shifted uneasily which caught Primrose's attention, a hint to let her know that she had something to hide and that there was a chance that their Master had found out.

The three of them heard Helgenish take a raspy breath before voicing the voice of displeasure, "What was those sorry show you gave today, Primrose?" So the blond man hadn't ratted Yusufa and the others out just yet, Yusufa was spared of his wrath for a moment longer. Primrose stood silently as her master went on to tell her that clearly she had been distracted instead of focusing, trying to convince her that he had her at his fingertips and knowing her every thought just be glancing at her. He approached her, reminding her that he owned her and the fate she deserved if she defied him but he warns her because he truly cares.

In the bedroom, Olberic couldn't believe what kind of monster Yusufa and Primrose had to deal with for so many years, the threat of death hanging right above their heads as they walked, as they danced for the greedy man's pleasure. Yet, he sat there defenseless and he listened to him talk to Primrose as if she were nothing but an animal. He couldn't reveal himself and put their lives at risk. If he did, they would just be two more lives he failed to protect.

Helgenish was too close to Primrose which caused her to back away. It was true that her mind was not focused on dancing but what of it? If the people around her adored it what harm was there to think about other things? Her father had been on her mind during every performance in the hopes that the rumor that led her to Sunshade and dance under Helgenish would lead her closer and closer to finding her father's murderers. Did the encounter with the warrior from the night before cause her mask to crack ever so slightly? Slightly enough for Helgenish to see through her? No, it was a coincidence, not a sign of weakness.

She apologized to her master, "Forgive me, Master. I was simply remembering the first day I came here to you. Not a day passes when I am not thankful for everything you have given me." This was one of the many lies she has told him for so many years, lies that Helgenish foolishly fell for. It physically stirred something in Helgenish when she said those words, it was she who had him at her fingertips. "Please forgive my lack of focus, it will not happen again." Yet another lie.

Helgenish began to reminiscence on the day she came and how she met his every expectation, making her his best investment yet. She stood silent, her need for revenge being the reason why she became the best dancer in Sunshade, every day hoping that her skills would bring the attention of the men with the crow tattoos.

"But tonight," He began again, this time looking straight at Yusufa, "you both have displeased me." He walked past Primrose and approached Yusufa, his "worst investment" of the five dancers, "A little birdie told me you were hiding something in this very room."

Yusufa's heart stopped. She knew she was the runt of his little "kitten liter" and he would not hesitate to replace her with another woman off the street. "Whatever do you mean, M-Master?" Her eyes looked directly down to the ground, she still never could easily say the word directly to his face.

Helgenish turned around and started walking directly towards the drapes. "I heard you snuck in some poor bastard off the street into this very building. Was it love at first sight, little runt?" He grabbed a handful of the drape, "Poor little runt." Before Yusufa could say anything, Helgenish yanked it down the makeshift of a wall from the ceiling, revealing Olberic who looked at their master dead in the eye.

Primrose was astonished that she would find the man in her presence again. Was it Sealticge that brought them together again? A foolish idea but it more than a mere coincidence that they would meet again. She looked at Yusufa, who was pale as a ghost and ready to run for her life.

"I-I can explain, Master!" But she couldn't. No single lie or truth could make the situation any better - or worse - than it already was. Primrose realized this, knowing that her friend and lack of ability to keep up with her fellow dancers already endangered her dear friend.

Primrose knew of Yusufa's situation and, just as she defended her for so many years from the other dancers, she wanted to save Yusufa from her own demise. She spoke, hoping that her words would not fail her, "Master, this man-"

Seeing right through Primrose's plans to take the fall for her dear friend, Olberic interrupted her, "Yusufa saved me from an attacker, Sir Helgenish. After seeing how wonderful she was in taking care of me I can't help but thank you for creating such lovely women." Every man in Orsterra that acted despicably had the same rotten core but displayed it in different ways, surely stroking the man's ego would help his case. Olberic fumbled through his bags that laid next to his sword, taking out a heavy pouch of coins and handed it to Helgenish, who swiped it from his hands, "Will this be more than sufficient to cover for whatever damages my intrusion caused?"

The Master looked at Olberic then back at the coin pouch. He reached in to grab a single coin and placed it between his teeth, trying to bend it to see if it was fake. Assured that it was a coin made of gold, he smiled at Olberic, a dark aura emitting from it, "Not enough but it will have to do." Nothing would ever be enough for him it seemed. "Since you are a man of decent manners, why don't you allow Yusufa to lead you to our tavern. That is… if you'll pay the price for her to accompany you?"

"I'd be more than happy to have her presence once more." Yusufa looked at Olberic, mouthing words of gratitude. Primrose, however, kept looking at the man before her, the past pulling her down deeper into thought.

Helgenish turned right back around, "Well, Yusufa, you heard the man! Do your job!" Yusufa winced before nodding and beckoned Olberic to follow her. As he grabbed his belongings and made his way out the door, he felt as if Primrose had her eyes only set on him, Helgenish's barking at her about collecting enough custom to feed everyone for a week was nothing more to her than the sound of the wind.

Outside, Olberic fumbled through the little leaves he had left. Yusufa placed her hands on his arm, "Please keep the little that you have left! Your kindness was more than enough to make me the richest woman in Sunshade."

"Won't your master be angry if he finds out?"

She shook her head, "I'll earn enough custom to make up for it. Just go to the tavern and act as if you did pay me for my time." A look of worry came across her eyes. Primrose was always the dancer that had to deal with their master's fury and wrath, the one to deal with whatever scraps of his terrible mood and suffer the beatings he would take out on her. "You go on ahead, I want to make sure Prim is okay."

Understanding the predicament, Olberic once again made his way to the tavern, leaving Yusufa outside to try and comfort her friend. Inside, Olberic made his way to where he sat last time, the table empty except for a woman with greying black hair. The server that brought his drink noticed he arrived and brought him a mug full of beer. Before Olberic could say that she had gotten the wrong table, she winked and said, "On the house." He was content knowing his kindness, although small, reached her.

The woman, who wore clothing too thick for the type of climate she was in, at his table noticed this action, "I didn't know Gretal even had it in her to even show a speck of genuine kindness to another person." She heckled before bringing her drink to her lips, a trail of beer seeping out of the corner of her mouth as she drank it down.

"A local?" Olberic inquired.

Setting her glass down, she shook her head, "If you count visiting only once every year then I suppose but I don't think that's what you meant. This godsforsaken city is too damn hot to live in for so long." She fumbled through her clothing, taking out a white handkerchief with blue thread on the edges of it. Judging by her appearance and way of talking she was a foreigner from the Frostlands. A few nobles at the table over stared down the server, whistling and catcalling her. The lady raised an eyebrow, scoffing at the little manners the visiting nobles seemed to have, "And too damn dishonorable to deal with."

Olberic raised his drink to her, "Cheers to that, my friend." The woman delightfully raised hers to his and they drank down their beer. If the Sunlands were the physical manifestation of the wrath of the Gods then the Frostlands represented their grief, the cold climate never letting up even during the warmest times of the year. What could cause a woman to travel down here? Surely she was not here to experience the city of pleasures, an experience many covet. "Tell me," Olberic began, curious about the woman, "What brings you to such a far place from home?"

His drinking companion set down her beer, her eyes drifting to the middle of the tavern. She nodded her head in that direction and Olberic's followed along, his eyes landing upon a table of men laughing. Yusufa and Primrose were at that table talking to each of them. The woman looked back at Olberic, "You see the young lady with the short black hair?" He nodded and the lady sighed, "She may not know it yet but she's my daughter." He looked back at her and noticed the striking similarities. The hair, the eyes, and the gentle look in them all reminded him of Yusufa when she was taking care of him.

"I come every year on the day she was sold to this dreadful place." Before Olberic could ask why Yusufa came to be in such a situation, the woman spoke, "I was born into a very poor family in Flamesgrace and her father was the town gambler, quite literally gambling his own life away." Yusufa's mother grabbed her drink with both her hands, staring into the depths of her drink as if seeing the very memory of her daughter at the bottom. "When Yusufa was only five, her father gambled away the last of our savings and accumulated a large debt under his name. I still remember fighting with him about how he better figure out where to get the money to pay it all back and ordering him to sleep in the cold outside to reflect on what he had done. I was foolish to have thought that it was the harshest thing I have ever done to him because, the next morning, I found him and Yusufa gone."

She looked back at Yusufa, who was smiling at one of the customers who just complimented her smile. Although she had gone through her own struggles and dealt with the cruelty of all kinds of people while being in Sunshade, the sweet smile remained the same, much to her mother's relief. "A few days after, the bastard returned without my daughter. He happily announced that he sold my sweet Yusufa to this forsaken place to repay his debts." She formed a tight fist, "I was so enraged and stricken with grief that I demanded him to pay for what he had done with his life. He ran into the woods after I threatened him and that was the last time I ever saw him." Olberic looked at the woman, who had probably never stayed long enough to endure the same hardships as the people in this town and yet struggled just as much as all of them.

"Unfortunately dancers aren't affordable even with the amount of crap they get so every day for the last eighteen years I've spent laboring in anything that was available just so that I could earn the money to free her. Merchant, healer, caretaker, you name any job and you best believe I've done it. Once a year I would ask to see her just so that I could tell her what beauty I've encountered on my journey to see her and, in return, she would sing songs to me."

Eighteen years of being away from her loved one, a little more than twice as much as Olberic, "Why did you wait so long to tell her the truth?"

She chuckled softly, her eyes full of wonder about the reason why she hasn't, "To tell you the truth I don't know. Maybe not to hurt her by saying that her freedom was so far away. Or perhaps not to give her false hope in case something happens to little old me." She lifts up her glass one last time, a look of disappointment when she realizes the beer she had left were just a few drops. "But it doesn't matter anymore because hard work does pay off. Tonight, I'll set her free."

Olberic smiled, "Indeed it does." He looks back at Yusufa and then at Primrose, wondering how the dancer in red would live her life without her friend at her side. There's no doubt that she would no longer have someone that understood her pain but she would be thankful that Yusufa would be free of Helgenish's clutches.

Primrose strutted her way down the table to greet a nobleman, placing her hand delicately on his arm just as she had done to many patrons before him. "I'll see you again later…" She purred to the patron, her mask never faltering, never letting them see who she truly is. He turned to her with raised brows, acknowledging her remark with by nervously clearing his throat. She looked beyond him and what she saw made her eyes go wide, her body grew cold and then all at once go hot with resolve.

Across the room, a hooded man with a sleeveless cloak gave his farewells. On his left arm, the mark of the crow was tattooed into his skin, a picture that was burned into Primrose's memory ever since that day. Sealticge finally heard her and given her exactly what she had been waiting for.

The answer.

Her resolve, buried deep within her for so many years after clinging onto a mere whisper of a rumor, burned brighter than the wrath of the Gods.

 _This night has finally come_ , she thought, feeling the coolness of the hidden dagger under her skirt, the precious heirloom of her family, and how long she has waited to use it.

At long last, justice will be served.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The plot thickens" - Ali, Octopath
> 
> Advice is always welcomed! If you like what you read or have any thoughts consider leaving a review! Thank you for reading as always! c:


	4. Enough

Primrose was not the only one who had set their eyes on the hooded man. Olberic looked at him as well, curious at what the relationship between the man and the dancer in red was. As the man passed by him, Olberic took a closer look at the man, the only details of importance being the crow tattoo and daggers dangling from the man's waist. A dangerous man meant to be avoided.

However, the danger never stopped Primrose. He watched as she tried to catch up to the hooded man only to be stopped by Helgenish. There were a few words between them and, according to the scowl on Primrose's face and how close Helgenish got to her, she was denied the right to chase after the strange man because of the promise of a threat. Yusufa approached her, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder, and spoke for a moment but received no response from the other. Then, she pointed to the stairs near the entrance of the tavern which took Primrose aback, causing her to shake her head.

The woman at the table noticed the exchange and smiled, "That Primrose is all Yusufa ever talked about. She was quiet but kind to my daughter and godslord she can dance!" She looked directly at Primrose, who was smiling at Yusufa's kind and truthful words, "Do me a favor, stranger," Olberic looked up at her, who waved her hand at him as if to send him off, "Make sure that my daughter's friend doesn't get hurt. I've seen that man countless times on my way here and he's surrounded in bad rumors."

They watched as Primrose started to make first steps towards her fate. She uttered a few more words before running up the stairs, prompting Olberic to get up and chase after her.

The woman called out to another server to refill her glass of beer. She looked up to see the man, determined to keep Primrose safe from harm, running after the dancer. As the woman spoke about her story, she couldn't help but notice that his gaze landed on Primrose several times throughout the little time they spoke. The server brought her desired mead and refilled her mug to the brim.

She raised her drink, "Love at first sight. Now  _there's_  something to drink to!" With that being said, she drank her mead until there was no more to drink.

 

* * *

 

Primrose made her way out the back and into the town, running as fast as she could to wherever the left-hand man went. She made her way down the steps leading to the back alleys and found the man next to Helgenish, confirming her suspicions that her master had some relation to the man. "You will bring the women I need - won't you, now." She overheard the hooded man say. Realizing that she was out in the open where they would notice her, she hid behind a cavity in the cliff to her left.

The hooded man spoke about how loyal help was very hard to find nowadays and that he thought Helgenish and the man were friends. Helgenish backed off a bit, obvious that the hooded man had much more power than that of Primrose's master, and assured the man that he was doing everything in his power to satisfy his every wish. The man then spoke about seeing a beautiful dancer and how he would like to call one his own, much to Primrose's dismay. Did he mean her? If he did, it wouldn't be too long before Helgenish noticed her sudden disappearance. She had to hurry and make her way out before she was hunted down.

The man handed Helgenish a map, a map marked with the location of where he wanted his goods dropped off, and parted with her master. Careful not to give herself away, Primrose hid deeper in the cavity of the cliff as she watched her master walk away.

With one trail leading to another, Primrose was set on pursuing the man through the Sunshade Catacombs, a place where bandits and murderers could sin to their hearts' desire. Although Primrose had minimal experience fighting, having learned most of her skills through her father's lessons and observing how lesser bandits handled daggers on the streets of Sunshade to later trying to replicate how they wielded it, she was set to risk her life to avenge her father.

Before she sped off after the hooded man, a hand pulled her back, stopping her dead in her tracks. By pure instinct, she pulled out her hidden dagger, spun around, and put it to the neck of her attacker, who towered over her. Upon realizing who it was that grabbed her, she pulled back her dagger, unamused that she carelessly let herself be followed. "I thought I said to forget I existed. What kind of man are you to ignore a lady's wishes?" Once, twice, and now a third time she found herself directly in front of her old client. Was this the work of fate or perhaps the Gods were mocking her distrustful nature?

"A man concerned about said lady's wellbeing, especially after seeing how armed that man was." Olberic replied to her, making Primrose scoff as she put back her dagger. There was something familiar to Olberic about it. He had seen it somewhere before, but he didn't have the slightest idea from where.

"Don't make me laugh!" Primrose said, a sharpness to her words as she turned around and started walking towards the catacombs, "People only care about other strangers just to squeeze the use out of them." She was stopped yet again by the man. This was starting to annoy Primrose as her chances of catching up to the hooded man seemed to grow smaller and smaller with every passing second.

"If I truly wished to use others," Olberic explained, loosening his grip on the dancer's arm, "what caused me to help Yusufa not only once but twice? Why would I follow the advice of another to make sure you are not harmed?"

Primrose didn't know anything about the context behind the latter part of his explanation but she had heard from Yusufa, after Helgenish ordered Primrose to collect custom, that the man indeed helped her escape their master's wrath twice. She even witnessed his kindness the second time around. She asked Yusufa if the man wanted anything in return afterward and she shook her head telling her that the man was a just man of a good heart. Her attitude towards the warrior changed, "Fine, you can escort me through the catacombs but, once we reach the exit, we will go our separate ways." Regardless of the fact that the man before her was different than the people she's met over the past several years, she would not let her heart be at the risk of being deceived once more.

"Of course, Lady Primrose." Olberic once again had the opportunity of having something to protect and, just as he brought back Philip to Cobblestone, he will do anything in his power to make sure Primrose gets to where she needed to go safely.

"Do you have a clear container?" She inquired her new companion. Olberic slung one of his bags forward and looked inside, pulling out one of his canteens of water. He handed it to Primrose, who walked past him with the water filled canteen to a man laying against the side of a building. She looked at him, his skin dry as leather and lips chapped like the stones underneath their feet and looked at the bucket next to him that was filled with at most three coins. She opened the canteen and began to pour water into the bucket, the man quickly getting on the ground and cupped some of the pouring water in his hands, drinking it.

Once every drop was poured, she turned around and walked towards Olberic, "By the grace of Sealticge! Thank you for this miracle!" She waved at the man, a charming smile had formed. Olberic found himself smiling with her at such a kind gesture from a woman who seemed so cold.

As they both descended into the darkness of the catacombs, Olberic noticed that Primrose had procured a small, glowing gemstone from under her skirt. She whispered something that he could not make out. As if awakening something within the gemstone, it started to glow even brighter. She opened the canteen and place the gemstone inside, trapping the light. "A firefly stone," She explained, "I bought it thinking that I would go through dark places such as this." She led the way through the tunnels as if she had memorized the layout of the catacombs from the moment she arrived in Sunshade in preparation for today.

The air inside the catacombs, in comparison to the world above it, was humid and stuffy, the smell of death surrounding them as they walked deeper into its heart. They turned the corner carefully, not knowing what awaited them in the darkness of the tunnels, but saw that there was nothing but the bodies of freshly slaughtered lizardmen, a sign that the hooded man had been through there.

Olberic, again curious about the relationship she had with the tattooed man, started to utter out a question only to be interrupted by the woman in front, "If you're about to ask why I'm after that man then you'll be severely disappointed to know that I have no intention of telling you." She glanced at him, "You have my gratitude for escorting me through here but you'll have nothing else."

Silence followed them. Yusufa spoke so highly of Primrose's kindness yet, to Olberic, the Primrose that stood in front of her and the one Yusufa knew seemed like two completely different individuals. Was it a mask to lead Yusufa on or was Primrose keeping something from her to protect her dear friend? They walked down a tunnel that was dimly illuminated by a few torches hanging on the side of the wall, their steps echoing through the catacombs.

"Have I done something wrong?" Olberic inquired, "You seem to treat me as if my intent to help you is not genuine when it's very much the opposite of that."

Primrose closed her eyes, keeping her pace steady. Her father had always taught her to be strong, fierce in the eyes of everyone, but to also be kind to those that were kind to her. After being deceived so many times, she had forgotten what she learned from him after many years. She sighed, "No, you're only guilty of allowing yourself to accompany someone with a weakness such as myself and," she stopped herself, letting one of her many masks fall between her feet for a moment, "you reminded me of myself the night we met."

He thought back to her words that night. "What do you mean?" He was met with only silence. Not wanting to pressure her, he kept it at that.

They stepped down two flights of steps before finally seeing the exit of the catacombs, the light of the outside world blinding them both. She handed the canteen back to Olberic before they both walked up to the surface, the cool night breeze of the desert greeting them both. Seeing as their companionship was coming to an end, Primrose turned back to Olberic, a rare smile that she sent his way. "Forgive me and the wall I've built up, I have good reasons to have it up but I do pray that your journey will lead to good fortune." She winked at him, turning Olberic's cheeks as pink as a camellia in the spring.

Before Olberic could tell there was nothing to apologize for, a raspy voice shattering Primrose's hopes, "And where might you two be heading off to, kitten?" They both looked up to find Helgenish and his guardsmen, one grasping the short black hair of Yusufa.

Olberic's eyes widened upon seeing Yusufa being pulled by her hair, her eyes red and puffy from a river of tears she shed, her hand covering her neck as if to hide something, and looked to Primrose but she looked pale as a ghost. "Master… Helgenish…" she managed to utter out. Recomposing herself the best she could as if trying to make the situation look better than it already was, she played dumb, "Whatever are you doing at this hour?"

But Helgenish was having none of it. He yanked the hair of Yusufa, crying out from the pain, "Funny you should ask!" With his other hand, he grasped Yusufa's chin, exposing the bruises on her neck, and made her face the two below them, "A worthless little stray, this one, but she was kind enough to help me catch a rat escaping with a street dog." Yusufa was tortured into revealing the pair's location. Olberic gripped his sword, Those bastards!

While Olberic displayed some emotion, Primrose stood there, like a ghost incapable of doing anything, staring at Helgenish as words slowly came out of his mouth, the world around her was silent as she became consumed by her thoughts. After years of waiting for her opportunity, for her prayers to be answered, she had her moment on the main stage but, just like a weak candle flame, it had been blown away by her master. She would never have the opportunity to avenge her fallen house, herself, and her father. There was a shining glint which brought her out of her self-induced trance. "No!" She found herself yelling something but could not hear herself saying it. The memory of her father being killed flashed before her eyes. Primrose's history repeated itself.

_"Father…!"_

"Yusufa!"

Once the dagger was plunged deep into her chest, Helgenish threw her off the side of the cliff. Primrose dashed in to catch her, stumbling on her feet, and noticed a shadow run past her. Yusufa landed in Olberic's arms just in time before she hit the ground, blood gushing out of her wound. She yelled out in pain as she clutched Olberic's arm, digging her nails into the sleeve of the cloak. Olberic looked up, rage at seeing the woman who treated him with kindness bleeding out before him consuming him, "You bastard!"

Primrose dragged herself to Yusufa's side, pressing her hands against the wound to stop the bleeding but to no avail. There was too much blood. Yusufa gently held her hands with her own, "P-Prim," she said weakly, evident that death would be coming for her, "I've never… heard you… shout so…"

Primrose, seeing that she couldn't help ease her friend's suffering, looked at her with anguish, "What!? This is no time to.." She stopped herself after realizing that her voice was breaking, her eyes filling up with tears, a feeling in her heart that she hadn't felt for a long time welling up inside her. Why was she so powerless? Why must everyone she ever loved die in front of her? Tears started to fall down her cheeks, realizing that she must be cursed to suffer like this for the rest of her days.

"Hey.. Prim…? We're…. …nds….aren't we…?" Her voice grew weaker with every word she spoke, it even hurt to breath but Yusufa had to know. The question took Primrose as well as Olberic by surprise.

"I was.. sold… to this place.. as a child.. everyone… was so cruel.. so miserable.. I thought I'd never… make any… nds…" Yusufa started to cry but not from the physical pain, "It was… lonely.. Having… no one…" Upon hearing Yusufa retell her tale to Primrose, Olberic held his breath. His mind wandered off to Yusufa's mother who was probably well on her way to the dancers' living quarters by now with a heavy sack and an even bigger heart.

_"But it doesn't matter anymore because hard work does pay off. Tonight, I'll set her free."_

Damn it! Olberic blinked the anger away. The promise of happiness and hope, broken, by a man corrupted by his own selfish desires, and disposed of as if it were a plaything.

Yusufa tightened her grip on Primrose's hands as best she could, her strength of that of a newborn child, and looked at her with a smile, tears rolling down her face. "But you.. Prim.. You were… different…," Yusufa's voice quivered and broke in-between every word, "Always… standing tall… proud… No matter … how hard.. your days… Looking at you…gave me… strength…"

Words that sounded so weak have never sounded so strong. Primrose was disbelieved that the masks she put on around everyone since the death of her father and her promise of vengeance were the very masks that gave Yusufa the spirit to keep fighting day in and night out. In reality, Primrose was more broken than the most shattered glass in the world. It was Yusufa who found her true strength in the end. "Yusufa.." Tears fell onto her wound, mixing with her blood.

She loosened her grip on Olberic's arm, her hand slowly making its way to cup Primrose's cheek.

"Tell me…Prim… Were we… Were we… friends?"

"Yes, Yusufa…" Primrose had no trace of hesitation in her response, tears streamed down her cheeks, "You were… my friend…"

Yusufa closed her eyes and smiled, a smile full of pain but giant nonetheless. She looked up at the sky and saw a white bird flying through the night sky. It was free to go where it pleased, a freedom all the dancers wished they had. "I'm so.. happy.." Her voice grew weaker and weaker, she turned to Olberic, "Not… alone… anymore…"

Drawing her final breath, she closed her eyes, the last thing she saw were the worried and pained faces of Olberic and Primrose, the bird behind them flying off in the distance until it disappeared over the horizon. Her hand fell limp beside her. Olberic looked at Primrose but her face was buried behind locks of hair that strayed.  _Once again, I fail to protect someone_. The void grew wider.

They heard clapping from above, Olberic was the only one that looked up to see Helgenish's pitiful face. "Is it finally over? I must say, at least her last performance had some life. If she'd shown that sort of potential earlier, I might have kept her on longer-"

Blood boiling, Olberic clutched onto Yusufa's lifeless body and growled at him, "You insufferable demon… You take and you take and what of it all to just throw it all away at the end of the day. You have no heart and are no better than the bottom of all that you've thrown away!"

A fit of laughter followed after Olberic's words, enraging him further, "Oh my dear, sir. If you are to ever -  _and I'm doubtful you ever will_  - have the power to use people to indulge yourself, you'll understand how satisfying it is to use people until they're sucked up dry." She pointed at Yusufa's body and Primrose, "Especially pitiful little whores like them!"

"Enough."

Helgenish narrowed his eyes at Primrose, who spoke without looking at him, not giving him the satisfaction of looking at her face when she spoke against him. "What was that..?" He asked, expecting Primrose to correct herself before she was slaughtered where she sat.

Olberic looked back at Primrose. Finally able to see her eyes, he saw that her eyes, brimming with tears still, were lit with anger and resolve. She stood up, still not looking at Helgenish, and, with her own words, freed herself from her chains:

"I have danced enough for you."

The sweet voice that once soothed Helgenish was now a poisonous one, "This was the last night that I belonged to you." Helgenish scoffed, his remarks that insulted her intelligence were nothing more than mere arrows being fired upon a wall made of steel. She spoke in response, "I saw you for the foul swine you were the first time I laid eyes on you." She had outraged him as he started spitting out even more insults, calling her a whore, and spat that she would have died on the streets if it wasn't for him.

She smiled, recalling her travels and the people she's met, the people that betrayed her by giving her empty promises of fulfilling her wishes of knowing even a speck of information about the men with the sign of the crow. Her father's murder and her experiences of cruelty and betrayal had made her stronger with every passing moment, but the memories of dancing and spending time with her father and Yusufa's friendship throughout the time they've spent together gave her more spirit, more resolve to keep moving. "You have given me nothing."

She remembered the times she had danced with her mother in the gardens of her home, every step learned to please her father. "I have always danced on my own two feet."

Her travels across the continent in the hopes of a lead, her journey down to the city of pleasures, her friendship with Yusufa, her fateful meeting with 'Berg', it was never the Gods that wove her fate, she finally realized. She carved and made her own destiny. " I have always chosen where I step."

Helgenish's insults fell through Primrose like a pin in water, unable to pierce through anything and instead drowned itself. She looked at Olberic, who looked to see the real Primrose as she had shed every mask she ever created for herself, "All these years… The jeers, the beatings, the dishonor, I endured it all." Freedom, that was all Olberic could she in Primrose's eyes as she spoke, "All for this day. The day that man appeared before me." She looked to the sky above them, the same moon and stars that comforted her were now shining brightly.

"I need your stage no longer. I dance for myself now."

Destiny was her stage now.

Taken aback that none of his words seemed to reach her as her mind was in a place further than he could ever imagine, he started to utter out any words that would make her return to his side, "You forget yourself, little kitten. But I understand- this is just your little show, yes?" The guardsmen looked at each other, surprised by their master's sudden change of fury to that of mercy. "You wanted to see your master frown. Fine! Very well! You've had your fun." He started to pace, hoping that his mercy would be enough to allure her. She smiled at his sudden unease.  _She_  was the master right now with Helgenish, on the brink of desperation, being nothing more than her toy meant to be used and discarded.

"That naughty mouth of yours belongs to me! Put it where it belongs, and if you please me to my satisfaction… I will overlook your impertinence."

Primrose chuckled upon hearing his wrong choice of words, "Master…" She purred, "go pleasure yourself." Even Olberic chuckled at Primrose's remarks.

Helgenish, however, was not pleased. Nonetheless, he grinned, "Wrong answer, kitten." He ran to his right and slid down the rocky cliff he was on, his guardsmen following his actions. Olberic, sensing that fighting their way through would be their only course of action, set Yusufa's body on the sands of the desert, standing up beside Primrose.

He turned around to face his soldiers, the knife behind his back covered with Yusufa's blood, and threatened the pair, "You know what I do with cats that bite, don't you? I put them down. Just like that one." Primrose stood silent, her arm ready to grab her dagger and strike down anyone that got near her. The curtain would not fall on her today, not yet. Helgenish turned back, his guardsmen, gripping their weapons, were at the ready. "It's a shame, Primrose. You were always my favorite…What a waste…" He brought his knife to his face, aligning it so that the blade would cut her face in half where he was looking at her, "Yes, a terrible, terrible shame.."

"The only shame…"

Olberic gripped the handle of his sword. Primrose drew her dagger, seeing the reflection of her spirit in the blade.

" _Is that I could not do this sooner, Master_!"

Helgenish laughed before calmly unleashing his wrath, "Sic 'em, boys."


	5. A Letter to Home

A roar errupted from deep within the guards, who came charging at Primrose and Olberic, their swords aching for their blood to be spilled on the golden sands of the desert. Four came at them, comfortably behind them was Helgenish, who sat behind to watch the spectacle. The one guard that led the charge aimed his sword directly at Primrose, who stood at the ready to defend herself. His sword struck her dagger, causing Primrose to falter from the clashing of steel, and left her open to the guard's next strike.

Just before he swung down his sword, another sword clashed with his. Primrose looked up to see that it was her companion who had rushed to protect her. The guardsman parried the attack, launching himself at his attacker, grabbing his hood down to cover his vision in an attempt to blind him long enough to slay him. Olberic, however, slipped right under the cloak, causing the guard to fall backward, the cloak covering his sight as Olberic swung his sword across his chest, a clean cut ending him in an instant.

The other three men froze upon realizing who they were dealing with. Helgenish, however, seemed unfazed.

One of the men, lowering his sword ever so slightly, managed to utter out, "O-Olberic, The Unbending Blade of Hornburg?!"

Primrose looked at her defender in shock mixed awe. Although she never knew what the fabled man from the fallen kingdom looked like, she learned about him from the history lessons her father gave her and heard plenty of stories from Noblecourt's guard about the knight and his accomplishments. He served as a source of inspiration for the younger men that dreamed to become just as strong as Olberic. Fate worked in many strange ways for Primrose.

Olberic extended a hand to Primrose, who took it without hesitation. He examined her quickly, she was unharmed. "Keep your guard up and keep it firm, ready for anything." Primrose nodded. She underestimated the force of the clash that sent her down but she would not let herself fall as the next time she did would surely be her last. Olberic assessed the situation at hand, trying to find an opening in the wall set up by the guards in front of Helgenish, "As soon as they come rushing in," He advised Primrose, "find an opening and dash through it. Strike down Helgenish, I'll take care of the rest."

Three versus one? The man was insane to take them all on but the telltale smile on Olberic's face reassured her. She nodded, understanding her role on the battlefield. Outrun and outlast, be quick and run out of the fray fast. She might not have the strength to strike down an army but, if her very life depended on it, she could surely outrun it.

"I had a feeling I knew you from somewhere… What a treat it'll be to strike you both down now!" The master, angry at how his guardsmen quivered at the very sight of the Unbending Blade, shouted at them, "What are you miserable pieces of tin doing! Get them or else suffer the same fate as all the men that defied me faced!"

With the promise of their demises engrained onto their minds, the three men regained their will to fight for their lives, not knowing that they were doomed from the very moment they swore to protect Helgenish from his own fate. Two swords swung down on Olberic's blade, the vibrations vibrating through his sword but nonetheless keeping his grip on it firm, the man defending himself from their attacks and pushing them back, creating an opening for Primrose.

She dashed through, piercing their offensive defense, and charged at Helgenish. Her dagger pierced the air as she tried to make a clean cut at his neck but was only met with Helgenish's own dagger. "Come to play with Master, kitten?" He parried her attack but it did not slow her down. Primrose swung once more, a little more strength behind her attack this time, at her master's neck but he sidestepped the attack, as if the fight was nothing more but a dance, and cut her side deeply, causing her to gasp in surprise. "Too slow, kitten."

Primrose grabbed her side as she glared at him. Even though the man looked like he had probably never seen better days, the man moved like he had been dancing for years. He snorted, amused by the look in her eyes, "You forget yourself! I was the one who raised you to be the fine dancer that you are!" He looked at the way her hand gripped her dagger, it was firm, much too firm. "I'm in your head! I will  _always_  know what you're planning on doing even before you even have the  _speck_  of the idea!"

She lunged at him, aiming for his arm in the hopes to wound him enough to make him drop his weapon, but, proving his words were true, he again side stepped her attack. Before she had the opportunity to dodge his response to her, Helgenish swung his dagger down on her right shoulder, the blade piercing deep into her fine skin. She yelled out from the unexpected attack, causing Olberic to turn his attention away from the three guards he was defending himself from to Primrose. Urgency kicked in as he struck one of the three and tried rush to her side to protect her but was stopped by the other two guards, who pushed him back with their swords.

Helgenish used Primrose's moment of vulnerability to tackle her down using the weight of his body. Down on the ground for a second time, she gripped her shoulder as she writhed in pain but immediately tried to get back on her two feet before Helgenish had a moment to strike, plunging her dagger into the sand below her to help keep her balance. Realizing what she was trying to do, Helgenish hovered above her and placed a foot on her wounded shoulder and put his entire strength to send her back down onto the sands, he smiled at seeing her quiver with suffering. He held his dagger up high above her, aiming it at her chest, "Die, you stupid whore!"

Olberic stuck down the second solider, leaving one more, and once again looked to see Helgenish, ready to deliver the final blow, above a knocked down Primrose. "Lady Primrose!" He yelled as he desperately tried to run to her to protect her but was only stopped by the last soldier, who tackled him down to the ground in an effort to stop him. Olberic kicked him off and struck him, ending his life, and resumed running as he saw Helgenish bringing down his dagger.

In that very instant, Primrose thought back to her father, the only other thought occupying her mind being that of asking her father for his forgiveness and that she would join him soon. She didn't fear death. If the Gods wrote her death into that very moment, she would have been content knowing she was free from the cruel world around her. What she did fear, however, was facing her father again without her avenging him. She thought of what he would say knowing that she failed what she promised him so long ago. Would she become a failure in his eyes?

Then her mind, as if being under the control of someone, drifted to a woman dressed in black. She met her in the small town of Whispermill just as Primrose, searching for a clue of the whereabouts of the men she was looking for, was about to make her leave. The woman pulled her aside, telling her she would give her what she sought after only if she agreed to participate in a ritual.

_"What sort of ritual?" The then naive Primrose asked her._

_The woman, a mysterious, dark yet alluring aura surrounding her, placed a finger to Primrose's lips, "You need not know just yet. Let's just say I have a little job for you."_

After that, Primrose had no recollection of the ritual except for the scorching pain she had felt within and around her body, the overwhelming pain knocking her out. She later found herself on top of a stone altar in a nearby forest, abandoned. Puzzled as to what the events were that led up to her abandonment in such a dark forest, she made her way out of the forest with the help of a hunter who was hunting a direwolf that terrorized the local farms of Whispermill. It was then that he told her of the rumor that led her to Sunshade.

As she felt Helgenish swing down his dagger, the air above her being cut cleanly, Primrose remembered a part of the ritual and the woman performing it. The pain, the anguish, the foreign words that slipped out of her lips like honeydew, out of all the words spoken Primrose could only make out one phrase.

_Night Ode, bring your shade._

Black stems with piercing thorns began to wrap themselves around Helgenish's body, causing his dagger to fall out of his hands and onto Primrose's side. "What?!" He gasped, trying to get himself out of darkness's embrace but to no avail as the thorns began to pierce through his skin. Primrose arose from the ground, dagger on hand, and faced Helgenish. Olberic, who witnessed the stems appear from out of nowhere and kept Helgenish imprisoned, looked back at Primrose, her hands glowing with dark magic, a forbidden type of magic. He saw her dig her dagger into Helgenish, the stems vanishing as quickly as they appeared, and saw him sink down to the ground.

Primrose held her head in her free hand. She didn't know why she spoke what she did or how she managed to escape death thanks to black magic she never knew she processed. Whatever caused such black magic to arise from within her it drained her of her strength, causing her to stumble. Olberic came to her aid and grabbed her before she fell, being careful of her wounded shoulder, "Are you alright, Lady Primrose?"

With eyes filled with exhaustion and looking for answers herself, she looked at him and regained her composure by using his arm as a support. "I'm fine." She uttered, but was she truly? Even while she studied from various books her father gave her, Primrose never could learn black magic even if she wanted to. It was strange that she suddenly learned how to use such magic, let alone the terrifying dark magic she possessed.

"Primrose…"

Helgenish, still alive yet bleeding out, called out to his sweet dancer in an attempt to have her spare his life so he could get away. "You always were… different from the rest… The fire in your eyes… it burned brighter than any other's. I have seen many a girl in my years… but none… quite like you." Olberic looked at the man, the dying man truly had no honor, did he? He looked to Primrose who just stared at him with emotionless eyes, hearing her master's last words. "You… fascinated me from the start." Hegenish felt his dagger underneath his body. If he could strike both of them while they are turned away from him maybe, just maybe, he had a chance of escaping.

An idea struck the man.

"Come, Primrose," He spoke weakly, hoping that his act would deceive them, "Won't you dance… one last dance for me?"

Carefully measuring her dying master's request, she turned around and held a single hand to her chest, the other carrying her dagger. Olberic looked at her thoughtful face, confused as to why she would even consider giving the malicious the satisfaction of having his pleasures be fulfilled. He saw past her and saw that Helgenish had shifted. There was a dagger in his hand.

"Die,  _witch_." Helgenish muttered before coming at Primrose.

He looked back to Primrose, "Lady-" He stopped himself upon seeing a smile curl on her lips, realizing that the dancer in the red had not fallen into her master's trap, and dashed towards Helgenish, the sound of cut flesh ringing through the wind.

The master had fallen into her trap.

Helgenish turned around slowly walking towards Primrose before stopping and grabbing his neck, coughing up blood. He stumbled and fell to the ground, as if bidding farewell to an invisible audience. He writhed in pain as he tried to stop death from coming to drag him to the very depths of hell, crying out as his vision started to blur, "Ugh… nguh…Urrrrrk!…."

Then, there was silence.

Primrose turned around, pleased that she as well as all the other dancers were finally free from the clutches of their master. Although it may have been true that her master had the upper hand in their duet, surely even he didn't see his ultimate demise coming for him. "Quite the dancer yourself in the end." She approached him and searched the inside of his coat pocket to find a map, the edges of it stained with his blood. "Guess you won't be needing this anymore." She unfolded it to see that it was a map of the entire continent of Orsterra, a black cross over a town in the Frostlands, "The village of Stillsnow… I'll need to pack warmer clothes." She looked back at her master, an eye for an eye, a life for a life of freedom. That was how the world worked in Primrose's eyes. "And with that, Master… I do believe my debt is paid."

Primrose looked over to Yusufa's body that rested among the sands, the color of her fair skin completely gone. Another person that was dear to her dead, perhaps the ritual the woman had performed on her was to have her cursed to see everyone she ever loved die right in front of her. A cool container was pressed gently against her arm. She looked at Olberic, who was handing her the last canteen of water, "Clean your wounds. If it festers and contracts an infection, you won't even get to reach the borders of the Riverlands." He said to her before offering her bandages, which she happily accepted.

He started to walk away back towards the city of pleasures. Although she had promised that they would part ways with other once they exited the catacombs, Primrose didn't want to be left alone to bury Yusufa's body. She called out to him, "I remember what I said but please… help me bury Yusufa. With all the kindness she showed you, will you really dishonor her name by leaving her for the scavengers?"

Without turning back to meet her gaze, he spoke sadly, "We will put her to rest. There is something I need to do before then…"

 

* * *

 

 

He found Yusufa's mother outside of the dancers' quarters. She waved upon seeing the familiar face of the man who listened to her tale but, bearing a heavy heart, he could not wave back to her. Olberic asked if he could have a moment of her time to see something that laid outside in the desert to which the woman heckled, "Something to show me? Hopefully, you aren't deceiving me and planning on robbing me dry of coin?"

Olberic didn't have the heart to tell her what awaited her.

They walked on the stone path that led away from the town. They spoke, the majority of the conversation being the mother speaking and Olberic listening to her sadly. She spat on the ground before her, "That darn bastard Helgenish! He rushed out of the town before I even had a moment to speak with him!" The image of Helgenish's body, slit at the throat, burned deep on Olberic's mind when the woman mentioned his name. Although he was content that Yusufa was avenged and the dancers were free from their chains, Olberic couldn't understand why he wasn't satisfied that the man was long gone, why there was still a void in his heart when he thought of Yusufa.

Emptiness. Was this the feeling that awaited him once he found Erhardt and avenged his liege?

"You seem rather quiet." The woman brought him out of his thoughts but did not respond. They were on the outskirts of the town, the moon already hidden behind the horizon by the time they made it. Before Olberic could confess why he brought her out to the desert, the mother looked towards a person holding onto the body of her dear daughter.

Intense emotion alone is enough to cut the individual off from the rest of the world. No sound or touch could ever hope to reach them if anyone were to encounter someone in such a state. Even as a voice behind her called out to her desperately to return, the grief-stricken mother - Yufa - could not make out what they were saying. She pushed something, something with a bandaged shoulder, out of the way, something that kept her in-between her and the body of her dead daughter, and held Yusufa's body, cradling her like she had when she was back to being a mere baby.

Yufa rocked the body back and forth, words spilling faster than the tears coming out from her eyes. A hand on her shoulder made her yell out in anguish. Something about never forgiving the person behind her for not protecting her dear child, something that deeply wounded the person. Good. Their pain nothing to what she felt.

With the world silent around her, Yufa's mind drifted to one of their last conversations back at the inn just one year ago.

_"Hey, Yusufa?" The dancer in blue, sitting across from the woman on the bed, looked at her questionably. The woman smiled at her, a smile that frighteningly resembled the blue dancer's, and spoke softly, "You always sing for me but how about I sing you a song?"_

_Yusufa clapped in sheer glee, "Oh yes! I would very much like that! What will you be singing for me today?" She stopped the woman for a moment as Yusufa tried to guess what her client would sing, "Perhaps a lullaby from the Riverlands? A worker's song from the Cliftlands? Oh! How about an ode about the nobles from the Flatlands?"_

_The old woman laughed, "Or how about a song I made just for you? It's quiet sad but it reminds me of a person I've lost."_

_Yusufa laughed, excited at the fact that this is the first time in a very long time that anyone had ever given her something, "Never mind the sad part! Let's hear it!"_

As Yufa held her daughter's body in her arms, she couldn't help but sing to her daughter one last time. As the woman started to hum, Olberic remembered hearing the same tune back at the tavern when he first saw Yusufa. The woman started to sing:

_I'll Set My Sun_

_Time, The Only Comfort That Finds Me_

_A Wish To Cross A Sea, A Woe Heard_

_Take Me Home~_

_Bury My Body_

_The Rains Of My Sorrow Filling The Forsaken Banks_

_The Grace Of A Mother's Touch, A Woe Heard_

_I'm Almost Home~_

_I'll Take Your Hand_

_The Golden Colors Of My Heart_

_Wilting Ever So Slowly, A Woe Heard_

_I'm Almost Home~_

_The Pain Everlasting_

_Burning Brighter As You're Further Away From Me_

_Oh Sweet Home, A Woe Best Left Unspoken_

_I wish I never came home._

 

The woman, having ended her song, cried out into the night, finally hearing the sound of her own voice that shattered the night sky.

 

* * *

 

By the time they finished burying Yusufa and holding her funeral, the sun started to make rise on the Sunlands. Yufa, who performed the funeral service with the help of Olberic and Primrose, set the final touches by placing a wide blue pot full of water on top of her grave, a single tea rose, symbolizing that Yusufa and her kindness will never be forgotten, floating in the middle.

There was a legend in the Sunlands that those with good hearts who pass away in the desert will have their souls returned to the desert and bring about rains that will bloom flowers similar to that of the flower placed on their graves. Since then, the people of the Sunlands have buried their dead in the desert in the hopes of bringing about such rains to have successful harvests but to no avail. Yufa, however, thought that the Gods would see no such greed in her heart as she laid down her daughter to rest. Only grief filled the old woman's heart.

She turned back to face Olberic and Primrose, a sad look in her eyes, "I can't thank you both enough for your kindness." For the first time in years after dedicating her life to saving her daughter, Yufa stood at a standstill. She was lost, not knowing what to do or where to go next. "To be honest, I have no clue what the Gods want me to do next."

Primrose sympathized with her pain. She knew no words would be able to comfort her sense of losing her purpose for she had only a temporary purpose in this world. Olberic, however, who also sympathized with the woman, had the answer to Yufa's worry: "Kindness."

Yufa looked at him, "What?"

Olberic pointed at the town of Sunshade, "I saved Yusufa from a man's wrath before I even knew what her tale once and she repaid the favor by saving me. That very kindness was what saved her, if only for a while, during her short lived life. There are other dancers that no nothing of that word and have lived getting joy from the misery of others." He paused, letting his words sink in with the woman, before continuing, "However, if they were taken away from that place and given the lives they never had, I believe that Yusufa's love and kindness will live on in not only you but also in those other dancers and their daughters and sons for as long as they live."

The warrior's words took the woman by the surprise, even Primrose was shocked that such a man who wouldn't hesitate to strike down an army could say such sweet words. Primrose ponded if she had been wrong in distrusting Olberic who not only acted honorably but also risked his life for her. A laugh, weak yet a laugh nonetheless, irrupted in the the old woman. That was the first time in the last couple hours that Primrose and Olberic had seen life in Yufa. "For a warrior that only knows how to battle, you sure have your beetle dung figured out!"

Olberic shook his head, "No, I'm just merely helping you find the purpose you lost for a moment." He didn't realize the weight of his words on himself.

Yufa nodded, a silent thank you for the man's words. She pointed her finger westward to direct the pair, "If you both are planning on leaving this forsaken place, it'll take about a day to reach the Riverlands. If you keep following the road signs north, it'll be another day before you reach an intersection between the Cliftlands and Clearbrook, home of two humble apothecaries. Keep traveling north for a couple days and it won't be long until you reach the Forestlands and, beyond them, the Frostlands." She thanked them, "Thank you. I couldn't have asked for two better people to watch over my dear daughter as she lived her last day. Maybe, someday will meet again?" It was an empty promise of a reunion but one nonetheless. She started to walk to the town, looking back to glance at the pair, "Keep yourself safe will you? For Yusufa's sake."

They nodded, watching Yufa's figure get smaller and smaller until she vanished into Sunshade. Olberic rearranged the sword at his side and started to resume his journey to Victor's Hollow, remembering that his assistance was no longer needed by Primrose, "Try to be lighter on your feet and let your body guide you as you wield your dagger." As Primrose fought Helgenish and was bested by him earlier, he noticed that Primrose was being pushed around by her anger and the dagger instead of herself. For her own sake, advising her was the best thing he could offer her since it was clear that she was going down a dangerous road, "Attacking with a dagger is much like a dance. Agility and a light foot will lead to victory so try to incorporate your dancing into your offense." He looked at her, smiling, "If you heed my advice then surely you'll become a force of be reckoned with."

Touched by how the man advised her, despite her coldness towards him and lack of trust at the start of knowing him, her impression of Olberic changed. This man was different from all the people she's met. He did not deceive her, use her, or leave her abandoned after hurting her so and did not demand favors in for his services but, instead, he helped her even when she truly believed she didn't need it going as far as to risking his own life to protect her. He did everything without even asking for her gratitude. Although past experiences still kept the walls around her heart standing firm, perhaps she could use a friend like Olberic to accompany her on whatever road she was about to walk on. A companion she could rely on without worrying or fearing the worst and one that, one day, she would be able to trust and confide in.

Yes, a companion would be nice indeed.

"Olberic!" Primrose called out to him, causing him to turn. She caught up to him and explained herself to him, "I was wrong to judge you so harshly even when you greeted me and Yusufa with nothing but kindness and worry." Before Olberic could reply that she didn't need to apologize, she smiled at him genuinely, causing his thoughts to scatter, "As I said before, I see a lot of myself in you and I'd be more than happy to accompany you on your journey if you'll let me."

Just as Yusufa's kindness had reached Primrose, such a change in heart reached Olberic, "I'd be more than happy to have you at my side." He drew his sword, positioning it in front of himself as if doing an oath to Primrose, "And my sword will be yours on your journey to Stillsnow until you have no need for it anymore."

"You don't need to be so formal about this you know! Underneath these clothing, I'm just another woman of the sands!" Primrose laughed at how serious the man had taken her words but nonetheless was content that the warrior accepted her as his partner.

Olberic, getting a certain image in mind, blushed. He tried to hide it as he put his sword back in its scabbard, "I'm merely just swearing an oath to you, lady Primrose!"

"Primrose."

"What?"

She smiled at the honorable man as they walked west towards the Riverlands.

"Just call me Primrose, darling."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So fights are hard. I learned this a little too soon before I wrote the fight so here's hoping it made sense.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I read every review so any advice or simply telling me if you like the way the story is going makes me so happy and excited to keep writing to tell a very different version of events! Consider leaving a review!
> 
> Again, thank you guys for reading and have an awesome day!


	6. A Strange Condition

Just as Yufa had said, Olberic and Primrose reached the Riverlands in the matter of a day. The scenery around them was beautiful and looked like it had all magically jumped out of a fairytale. In comparison to the harsh environment of the Sunlands, the Riverlands gave the pair a sense of peace and tranquility. The creatures of the Riverlands were much friendlier than those of the Sunlands as well, never attacking the pair even if they got too close to them, allowing Primrose to observe all sorts of strange creatures she had never seen before.

Being imprisoned in Sunshade for so long, imprisoned by her own desires as well, blinded her into never taking the time to enjoy the little wonders life had to offer her. She knew more about people through experience but when it came to the outside world she came to know very little of it. She wondered what caused her curiosity to suddenly take an interest in the world around her and thought back to Yusufa, who often told her how much she wanted to see the world. She clutched the handkerchief that was tucked in with her dagger, she was both of their eyes now that Yusufa passed away and it would only be fair to experience the world for Yusufa.

"Deep in thought again?" Primrose was brought out of her thoughts by Olberic, who knelt down beside her, curious about whatever she was thinking about. Earlier, they both agreed to stop for a short rest at a nearby river. While Olberic tried to determine where they were according to the map Primrose entrusted him with, Primrose took the time to put her aching feet in the water, watching two newborn Salamanders, the size of her toes, play with each other in river water as she let her mind wander off.

She shook her head, watching the two Salamanders swim around her feet, "Just wondering about the world around us." She lifted her feet up from the river and put on her sandals, getting up with Olberic as they both continued to walk through the southern Riverlands and make their way further north.

By the time the two made it to the West Clearbrook Traverse, the night started to fall on them, prompting to set up camp. They both worked together to start a fire to keep them warm through the night and makeshift beds made from dry leaves. Once the sun set, their camp for the night was complete. Primrose sat down on the pile of leaves, slowly taking off the bandages off her shoulders so she could change them, as Olberic started to prepare dinner from the provisions he had left, cutting up various vegetables and dried meat preserves for the both of them.

Handing Primrose her portion, Olberic stood up, looking around the dark forest around them. He picked some grass and dried leaves from around him and tossed them into the fire. "The smell of burning grass keeps the animals of the Riverlands and Forestlands away," Olberic explained to Primrose, "It's unpleasant to them even though we can't smell what they can smell." Although he didn't look like the type to Primrose, Olberic knew much more than he let on.

Primrose, pouring cold water over her healing wound before massaging her wound with a balm made from healing grapes, curiously looked at him. Before they came across the campsite, Olberic was able to answer every little curiosity Primrose had about the Riverlands. The animals, how they lived, what the names of the different flowers and trees they saw were, Olberic seemed like he knew the answer to the secrets of the Riverlands. "For a man who could easily cut down dozens of men in an instant, you seem to really know your stuff about these lands."

Olberic laughed, for him to know such things were nothing more than common knowledge, "This knowledge of mine is nothing special. A knight that was training me taught me everything that there is to know about Orsterra before I learned how to draw a sword. Strength is half of the war. The wisest men, able to figure out the enemy, coming out on top." He shook his head, a memory of his fair mother coming back to him, "But most of it I have learned years before I wished to become a knight."

Although the two had been talking to each other about all sorts of things, from what they liked to some amusing stories of people they've known, throughout the few days they've been together, Primrose barely knew anything about the man except that he was searching for someone, for a certain purpose just like she was. "Do tell." She finished bandaging her shoulder, her curiosity about the man before her getting the better of her.

Thankful for her lending an open ear, Olberic began to retell a few of his memories growing up, a fondness in his tone as he spoke, "The person that taught me everything the world offered was my mother. She grew to be the finest florist in all off Hornburg. Disease stricken flowers? A fertilizer to heal them is what she prescribed. What sort of flower popped up in a person's garden? A common forget-me-not. She helped everyone that came to her to the point of traveling at the risk of worsening her condition, even bringing beautiful flowers from the mountains to warriors. put out of commission due to their injuries during wars, in the hopes of lifting their spirits."

"Condition?" Primrose inquired.

He nodded, vividly remembering how, whenever Olberic's mother had troubles of even doing the simplest of chores, he was there to make sure nothing hurt her. In a way, he became her knight. "When she saw her first ten years, she had a disease that made her bones weaker, hair whiter, and many suspected that she would not live to see the next five years. Distraught, she buried herself in the garden of her home and took care of it for many years. It was as if she found her own strength and resolve through taking care of that that was not her own self."

Primrose smiled at how sweet it was of him to speak of his dear mother so highly. She remembered how her own mother taught her how to dance on her own two feet, taught her to be kind to even the poorest of men. The former lady of House Azelhart knew her ways when it came to the arts and was not afraid to boast about it to the servants of the house, often inviting them to take a break from whatever it was they were doing and paint or dance with her. Although many have told Primrose that she bore her father's face, it was clear as a diamond that her mannerisms, both cold and warm, were that of her mother's.

Olberic then started to remember how her mother spoke fondly of her visits to the castle, describing vividly to the best of her ability of how big the guards were, carrying swords larger than Olberic was at the time, and how kind the knights of the castle were to her every time they saw her.

"Just as caring for her flowers strengthened her will to live, her flowers brought her to my father, the strongest man in the kingdom and the king's right-hand man."

_"Love at first sight." Olberic's mother would tell him as they worked on a large field of flowers they had in the back of their house. A gentleness in her eyes lit up as if the man was in front of her, gifting her the most beautiful flowers she had ever seen. "Olberic, I hope you come to know this feeling for it is one of the most beautiful creations the Gods have given us."_

Although Olberic had felt various things throughout his lifetime, it never occurred to him that love at the very first sight would ever be a sentiment that his mother and he would share. The women of Hornburg were lovely, this was true enough, but just as they were thrown off by his stoic personality, his heart was truly very captivated by them. The only time his heart fluttered was when he saw Primrose for the first time that night. He shook the thought of the night away, dismissing whatever he felt then as nothing more than his nerves of experiencing that situation.

He continued, "My father fell in love with her and promised to marry her after he escorted the king to pay tribute to Brand. But, he never returned." The sorrow his mother must've felt at the time was something that Olberic was very much familiar with. "News that an enemy army ambushed the pilgrimage party reached Hornburg the day the king returned. When our own troops went to see the battlefield, they saw that countless knights lay at my father's body. My father's courage to fight off the army in the name of the king, even if it granted him certain death, earned him the title of Hornburg's One Man Army, a name that I looked to as inspiration as I followed in his footsteps."

The jeers from those that thought he would never surpass his father, the long training sessions with Erhardt in the courtyards, sleepless nights of praying to Brand to grant him strength, he lived through it all to become the Unbending Blade, a title that was bestowed upon him after he bested troops trying to finish off Olberic and his comrades, who had fallen before him on the battlefield to grave wounds. "I became the Unbending Blade of Hornburg long after my mother succumbed to her illness. I fought for my king, finding a purpose to cut down the men I've fought over the years."

As a lady born to one day govern the town of Noblecourt, Primrose was expected to learn the history of the world around her rather than bother with the little details of it. She knew of Hornburg and its pride, of its honorable knights and great kings, as she was expected. Two years after Primrose left her hometown and first arrived at Sunshade, she came to hear about its fall from one of the knights visiting Sunshade. "I've heard stories about its fall." Olberic fell silent. "When Hornburg lost its king, the kingdom was thrown into confusion. The queen desperately tried to sort the people in her own grief but was only killed by her broken heart and spirit, throwing the kingdom into further anarchy and eventually led to ruin." She looked at him as she thought back to what he said the night they met but his eyes did not meet hers, "You're looking for the person that killed your king, are you not?"

"Erhardt. That is the name of the man that brought down Hornburg and stole my blade's purpose. I'm making haste to Victor's Hollow to find a comrade of his that might know of his whereabouts." But what would he do once he found him? Would striking down his old friend find him the answers he was looking for? He still did not know just yet. He realized he said too much, "Have I let my tongue run off for too long?" His worry caused the other to laugh, confirming his need to worry.

Primrose looked at the man. The man was a man of honor bound to the law of his fallen kingdom even though it was no more. While she wanted revenge to restore her father's honor, Olberic wanted to redeem himself and the people of his kingdom. His honorable wish to her wish filled with wrath. If she were to tell him why she tagged along with the warrior she assumed that the man, who probably never killed to fulfill his own desires and instead used his sword to protect others, would probably disgrace her, curse her name with dishonor, and leave her to fulfill her purpose for living the way she originally intended to.

For some reason, the thought of the man leaving her side scared her and thus continued to hide the truth from him even as the truth was at the tip of her tongue.

She replied sweetly, thus concealing her true goal once more, "Perhaps too much than a man on a first date with a beautiful woman but I wouldn't count a journey to find a purpose a date now would I?"

_Perhaps not_ , Olberic thought, cheeks turned pink.

Primrose looked at the man, whose lost spirit became the very reflection of her own in her eyes. The woman in black from Whispermill made her way into Primrose's mind, the words of forbidden magic that she had used on Helgenish, it was all probably more than what Primrose thought of it initially. "Unless fate itself is such, maybe what I have isn't a curse after all." She sighed, managing to get the attention of her companion. "For two years I roamed Orsterra to find a speck of a rumor that would lead me to a man marked by a crow," she started to explain, "but for two years I have been led on to the point of finding myself in the hands of a woman who performed something strange on me and gifted me what seems to be dark magic." The dark stems that twisted around Helgenish's body back in the Sunlands, the dark magic in Primrose's hands, it was an image that Olberic would never forget even after he parts ways with her.

She shrugged off the memory. Instead, the memory of the night she met Olberic wandered into her scattered thoughts.  _It seems fate has granted me another gift_ , she thought to herself.

Curious about her interest in pursuing the man marked with the crow, he asked her, "Why do you seek the man you're after?"

Not knowing how the other would react to her story that would lead to eventual bloodshed, with the possibility of him trying to convince her that there are other ways to solve her woes or, worse, his leaving her upon giving her ears to listen to her ultimate goal, she ignored his question, "It's late." She laid down on her bed of leaves, turning away from him, "We have a few days to go before we reach Victor's Hollow. It would be wise to rest now before the sun rises."

Primrose was a mysterious woman that looked like she carried a heavy burden, a burden that remained in the dark to Olberic. Not wanting to push the woman further, he laid down and closed his eyes, his mind drifting off once again to a troublesome past. In time, he'll know why his partner carries herself forward towards a distant goal whatever it may be just as, in time, he'll know his reason, his purpose, for fighting.

* * *

Primrose awoke the next morning with her companion gone, the fire that kept the two warm throughout the night long burnt out. She looked around to search for a trace of where he could have gone off to but there was nothing except that his sword was gone. She reached out to the sacks that Olberic would lug around with him and noticed that only one contained the little provisions and herbs they had left while the other three remained empty. They would need to make a stop soon to stock up on food.

The sound of leaves breaking behind Primrose startled her, prompting her to take out her dagger. The sound belonged to Olberic who carefully carried something between his two strong hands. Primrose withdrew her dagger, even in the middle of such a tranquil forest one must always be on their guard. "Forgive me for startling you. I meant to be back sooner but I had to make sure I grabbed plenty for you." He lifted up his hand to reveal what looked like small, shiny berries with a dark blue color. Upon seeing the man's gift to her, she realized how famished she was. She grabbed the only sack containing Olberic's things and exchanged it for the berries, their coolness pressed to the palm of her hand. "Blueberries, they were always a favorite treat back in Hornburg."

"What about yourself?" She asked him as she scarfed down six of the berries, the juice filling her mouth a sour yet slightly sweet flavor.

"I already ate from our provisions but it seems hunger bested me! I've run out before I could even realize it!" He laughed a hearty laugh but Primrose was not amused, she was more shocked than anything. Even though the man looked like he could eat a king's feast with ease, she still couldn't believe that the provisions that were supposed to last them one more day had been his breakfast! She sighed, seeing as how they'd be arriving at Victor's Hollows a day later than planned. She stuck the last six berries into her mouth, no longer feeling bad for not sharing her breakfast.

"If we ever need to eat again I can always catch Salamanders in the river for us. I've heard they're quite the delicacy in these parts of the continent!"

Primrose looked at him again, thinking back to the adorable baby Salamanders that were barely the half the size of a gold coin. ' _He wouldn't!_ ' She thought. Upon seeing the disgusted look on her face at his suggestion, Olberic couldn't help but laugh.

_He would!?_

They walked alongside the flowing rivers, clear as the blue sky above them, and crossed a bridge, a family of large golden fish swimming underneath in the river below them. It wasn't until they crossed the second bridge and came across the intersection between the path to Clearbrook and the path leading to the borders of the Cliftlands before Primrose stumbled over her own two feet, something that hasn't happened since she first started learning how to dance back in Noblecourt.

That was when she noticed she couldn't feel anything from the knee down. As she felt Olberic's hands on her shoulders in an effort to help, she looked down at her feet.

From the knee down, both her legs had turned blue, a dark shade of it that made her legs look as if they were starting to be frostbitten.

She started to panic, digging her nails into the skin of her flesh in an effort to feel pain, feel anything at all. Nothing. "I-I can't feel them!" All her attempts at standing were futile as she kept falling over even with Olberic supporting her.

Was it poison? An illness of the Riverlands? Olberic didn't know anything about what had befallen his comrade except that he shouldn't stand there as he watched whatever it was incapacitate the rest of her. Without thinking, he picked her up bridal style and started dashing towards Clearbrook, the home of two apothecaries according to Yufa. Surely they would know how to help his friend.

_I will not watch and stand idle_ _again,_  he thought as made it to the entrance of the town. The town looked just as tranquil as the environment around it, a river coursing through it, and much more open than the town of Sunshade. Such tranquility, however, was something that did not occupy Olberic's mind at the moment.

A man with disheveled blond hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, the hairs on the top of his head just as unkempt, exited one of the first houses Olberic saw. With Primrose in his arms, the dancer trying to massage her legs into feeling again but failing miserably, Olberic approached the man.

The people of the town that saw him charging in looked at him as if he were an animal that was lost and confused. Desperation in Olberic's voice, he pleaded "Please, sir, I hear you have apothecaries in this town? My friend, she-"

Without hesitating, the man, who remained calm and collected, examined Primrose's legs. One quick glance was enough for him to diagnose her. He looked at the two, flashing a welcoming smile, "I'm sure lucky to have two new faces as company on a fine morning like this!" The man was not fazed at all by the dancer's state as he took his time making his way to another townhouse that Olberic assumed belonged to the man. He invited Olberic to follow him.

"Alfyn's the name and medicine is definitely my type of game! I'll have your friend up and going in no time at all!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smaller chapter due to a bit of a writer's block but I managed to get it out of my system by writing a one-shot posted earlier
> 
> I'm so excited to write out Alfyn's part of the story. I love all the characters so much but I relate to Alfyn so much as a character so it makes writing him really easy (at least to me)
> 
> Also, I love every comment I've gotten~! Thank you so much for the love and continued support as I write out a *very* different series of events for our dear travelers~! To everyone that left a kudos, a common, bookmarked my story, subscribed, thank you SO much!! It means a lot and drives me to write more!
> 
> final note: Iwonderwhothatwomanis*sipstea*ahh,plottea,myfavorite


	7. Waterblooms

Two girls waited on Alfyn next to a table as he gathered the ingredients off a shelve above for his latest concoction. One of them had short brown hair and wore a white dress that was a tad too big for her while the other wore a long sleeved pink dress, a white bandana made of cloth holding her hair back. Earlier, they were playing with each other as they usually did every day but immediately stopped upon seeing the two travelers enter their older friend's home. Curiosity striking them, having never seen such strange people that weren't merchants enter the village, they entered the apothecary's home and asked if they could watch until, a moment later, they asked if they could assist in making the medicine.

Alfyn broke up the noxroot in his hands into smaller strands, shaking his hands clean of it into a stone mortar with the soothing seeds and water he placed inside earlier. He knelt before the two girls beside him and carefully handed the mortar to Nina, the girl in the white dress, "Okay girls, this is a very important part so I want you two to pay close attention!" Nina put on her best staying focused face. "You're going to take this," he grabbed the stone pestle and handed it to the other girl, Lily, "and mash the ingredients hard but not too hard or it'll spill all over you!" He pointed at their dresses, "Wouldn't want yucky herb water all over ourselves now would we?"

"Nope, nope!" " _Ewwwww_ , nuh-UH!"

"As you mash be sure to mix the ingredients! Think of it as drawing a circle but just doing it over and over again until you get it just right!" He stood up from the floor, ensuring the success of his medicine to the two girls, "Once the water turns yellow, just give me a holler and I'll give it to the lovely lady!"

The two girls got to work. Nina placed it on the ground and kept it steady in her hands while Lily started to grind up the ingredients. Alfyn looked at the two working together, reminding him of how he and his best friend, Zeph, were like when they started working together. He turned to his patient that occupied his bed and the worried friend that sat on the side of it.

Primrose smiled at the two girls, both counting in a fast-paced rhythm to keep the pace of the mashing going, "You have a way with kids." The majority of the people that worked for her family never talked to her in that sort of way as they expected her to be acting much older than her own age. It was relaxing to see such young girls acting their own age with no responsibilities suddenly thrust upon them and enjoyed the sight of their smiles as they worked together to make medicine meant for her condition.

Alfyn grinned, the man acting as if he were free from all the troubles in the world, "Aw shucks, it's nothing special. Just gotta smile and treat them right is all!" He got close to Primrose and whispered, "Just don't call them kids, they get  _real_  upset!"

Olberic kept looking at Primrose's legs with distraught. Although the apothecary told them that it wasn't a life threatening condition and that it had an easy fix, he kept worrying about his companion, who seemed unfazed at all after being reassured that it was all temporary. Alfyn caught on to the warrior's unease, "Don't worry! She'll be back up and dancin' on her own two feet quick!"

Olberic was confident in the medicine man's abilities to cure Primrose. What had him bothered was the cause of the affliction: the berries that he had given Primrose. Confusing the berries for blueberries, he had given her velvetberries which were an invasive species from the Forestlands whose juice was used as tranquilizers by hunters. Velvetberries became bluer in color because they started growing next to blueberries, their only distinction being the red color in their stems. Upon being told this, he apologized profusely to the dancer who reassured him that it was nothing but a simple mistake but, nevertheless, it was a mistake that may have gotten her killed in Olberic's eyes.

"I have no doubt she'll be cured." Olberic was unable to face Primrose for what he had done. Had he killed her, he would've never forgiven himself, thus, deepening the void in his heart. "Forgive me, Primrose."

Primrose laid a hand on his shoulder, comforting the warrior as he mentally beat himself up for allowing such a mistake to occur in the first place. Although a Primrose from another time would have suspected Olberic of treachery, she knew very well that his tender nature and knightly origins would never allow him to do such a thing on purpose, "I'll forgive you again and again until you're set free from your guilt."

The apothecary joined in, "No need to get worked up over it! It happens to everyone." He rolled up the sleeves of his green jacket, pointing his finger at his elbows. "When I first started becoming an apothecary, I couldn't even tell east from west so, naturally, I ate a whole basket of velvetberries thinking they were blueberries! My legs and arms were paralyzed for two days straight after that!" He thought back to Zeph, who would wake up every morning to take of Alfyn and assist him in everything. Alfyn rubbed the back of his head at the embarrassing memory of Zeph giving him a bath, "It was a wild ride but nevertheless I learned my lesson."

"Alffffyyynnn!" "Allllllffff~!"

The two girls proudly presented the stone bowl to Alfyn, the yellow medicine clear as can be with no signs of imperfections. Alfyn rubbed the heads of both of them, he taught them well. "You pulverized those ingredients to sheer nothingness! I'm so proud of you guys!" The two girls giggled to themselves as Alfyn handed the bowl to Primrose, prompting her to drink the concoction.

Primrose drank it, the water tasted bitter but there was a sweet aftertaste that rolled down her throat. She felt a tingling sensation rise up from her toes to her knees for a second before disappearing, a clear indication that the medicine was working as intended. She smiled at the two girls, who awaited for further advice on how to improve their skills as an apothecary's apprentices, "Thank you, sweethearts! This was probably the best medicine I've ever had in several years!" The compliment made the girls high-five each other, celebrating that they were growing more and more to be like the apothecaries they looked up to.

Alfyn took the mortar from her hands, "What you just drank cut down the recovery time in half so I think you'll be back to your normal self in about an hour. Although the berries are known to paralyze those that eat them, they're also used in some types of painkillers to help ease the pain of others." He looked to Olberic, "A side effect of them is that they actually help strengthen the areas it paralyzed so, in a way, she owes you a hefty thank you!"

Finally at ease, Olberic rummaged through his belongings, finishing out the little leaves that he had left. A man's hard work just simply can't be left unpaid. "I can't thank you enough for your kindness but I pray that you'll find the little that we have left enough to repay you?"

The apothecary shook his head, "Keep the money and buy somethin' nice for the lady! That'll be thanks enough if you did her that favor." A cured patient meant more than having heavy pockets, a lesson that Alfyn took to heart after he was saved by a man that asked for nothing in return. He looked over at the two girls. Unlike Alfyn, the two demanded a reward for their hard work, evident by their pouts. An idea struck him. "Instead, I think you should blow off some steam by hanging around these two lovely ladies! I think they deserved to play with a new face if that's not too much for ya?"

Lily looked to Olberic as the invitation to play with them in their favorite game in Alfyn's stead stood open for the warrior, who was perfect for the role of the knight in their little fairytale game. Nina, however, kept looking at his size and how perfect he was for something she had been meaning to do in forever. With those kind and gentle faces of theirs, who was Olberic to say no to them.

"Perhaps," Olberic faked his contemplation, making the girls eager to know his answer, "I will take you up on that offer." Without a moment's hesitation, the both of them each grabbed one of Olberic's hands and started to drag him outside. The warrior had very little experience when it came to children but what harm would it do to keep them company in their little games?

* * *

Lily and Nina led Olberic in front of the inn where they usually played together, a large lake surrounded by the forest of the Riverlands a sight to behold to those staying at the inn. An old woman sitting by a cat greeted the three, shooting a worried look at the girls' newest victim. The girls were known to take their adventures very seriously.

Lily, the carefree yet thoughtful one, rejoiced at having a new friend to take on their adventures, indecisively thinking about the possibilities of what to do together, "Oh what to do!  _What. to. do!_ " She looked to her dear friend, the more decisive and courageous one out of the two, "What do  _youuuuu_  think, Nina?"

Nina, who already had a plan for the day, looked up to Olberic, "What's your name?"

He bowed before them, treating them as if they were the little princesses of the Riverlands, "Sir Olberic Eisenberg at your serve, m'lady."

Nina looked at him terribly confused. Why would anyone name their child a weird name like ' _Olberic Eisenberg_ '? It baffled Nina, who thought simpler names were much cuter and easier to say. "Mister Eye-Zen-Berrrg," she began, Olberic trying to conceal his laughter at Nina's struggle to pronounce his name, "I have a favor to ask of you." Olberic knelt down to her level, a gesture of respect, and awaited his orders. "My brother is always missing a friend of his and I was wondering if you could help me cheer him up by helping me get waterblooms."

His mother once told him that the rare waterblooms often grew in the deepest caverns in the Riverlands and were said to bring the promise of reuniting people. It was sweet of the young girl to think of doing such a gesture for her heartbroken brother. Lily, however, thought otherwise.

She grabbed onto Nina, trying to pull her out of going through the plan, "But, isn't it dangerous? There are some mean creatures and snakes from what everyone says."

Olberic laughed, "What is a snake to a knight? Nothing but a mere inconvenience!"

Nina's eyes lit up but Lily was still very unsure about venturing off into the dangers of the Cave of Rhiyo even with the man's help. Nevertheless, she wasn't about to let the two run off without her. Nina and Lily did everything together so if journeying through the cave was one of the things Nina wanted to do then so be it.

Nina led the way as the three of them made their way to the path that would lead them to the Cave of Rhiyo that was tucked away deep in the face of a cliff, away from the rest of the world.

* * *

Primrose laughed at the memory of the awkward man, who had beaten countless enemies, was held at the mercy of two young girls. She developed a certain fondness for the kindhearted gentleman similar to that of a kind she had for someone she grew close to back in Noblecourt. Those days, although long gone, held a place in her heart even after so many years and knew that they were irreplaceable. New memories, however, could very well fill her heart anew.

"So," Alfyn began as he started to clean his tools, "travelers, huh?" An icebreaker Primrose assumed as much seeing that the town probably only had merchants come and go, never staying for too long. The man chuckled as he started to reorganize his shelves, placing the mortar and pestle in his satchel, "Sounds awfully amazing for you two." After he was finished, he turned to Primrose and came to her side, sliding down the wall of his home to the floor. Having never left his little paradise called home, Alfyn was curious about what sorts of adventures people coming by had to tell, "What's the scoop?."

Primrose began to retell her tale, seeing no harm in placing her trust in a man that cured her. Yusufa, Helgenish's wrath, a mother's tears, Olberic's humble, yet legendary past and his reason for his journey, the talks they had by a warm fire, the creatures they saw, she retold it all leaving out very few details of her own reason for joining Olberic. Alfyn listened intently, never interrupting her and often asking questions about the state of the town of Sunshade's citizens to which Primrose replied saying that the poorer people were often sick and at the brink of death. Such a response killed Alfyn.

"Shucks," Alfyn finally said after listening to his patient's tale, "those poor people, they could really use someone to help them."  _Someone like me_ , is what he wanted to tell her.

"Sounds like you want to help them yourself."  _Damn did she have a sharp eye_! "It wouldn't be a terrible idea to have someone know their way around fixing people and I'm sure you'd help us as well as many others if you joined us."

The invitation fell right into Alfyn's lap, tempting him to say yes. He knew he waited for a day such as this, the day where he would finally take off and follow the footsteps of the man that saved him so long ago. Taking off, however, would lead him to abandon the people of Clearbrook who, clearly, needed him. Besides, entrusting his friend Zeph with such a responsibility would only be another burden casted upon his shoulders.

Alfyn shook off the possibility of adventuring with the pair, ignoring the dancer's invitation and instead turned his mind to her health, "You should let your body rest, it'll be a while before you're able to move again." He picked up his satchel from the floor and swung the strap over his shoulder and head. Although the travelers had shaken things up for Alfyn, it was time for him to resume his routine around town, "I'll be back to check up on you!"

She looked at her legs, "I don't plan on going anywhere."

With a smile and a wave, Alfyn left her to rest.

* * *

_Screeeeeeeee~_

The rickety bridge groaned with every step the giant man took as he slowly made his way towards the other girls that waited for him sit patiently on the other side. He looked down below the old bridge, seeing that the only death awaited him at the bottom of the dark pit below him if he didn't place his steps carefully. The creatures he slew to get this far were not at the challenge the girls made it out to be but this bridge, that was a different story.

"Hey!" Nina yelled out to her much taller friend, startling him, making him almost lose his balance, "Don't tell me you're afraid of this old thing?" Nina and Lily, much lighter than Olberic, made it across with ease and didn't seem fazed at all by what was at the bottom of the cavern below the bridge. They were actually instructed by Zeph, not too long ago when the two girls and the apothecary made the trip to see the waterblooms, to never look down at the bottom or else 'the waterblooms will disappear.' A piece of advice offered in an attempt to help them overcome their fear of heights.

"Not at all!" Olberic responded, a third of the way done with his trek over the bridge, "What sort of knight would I be to fear the clutches of death?"  _A sane one_ , he replied to himself but his original response made the girls' faces light up. They'd seen what the man was capable of and the two seemed unstoppable with the man at their side which caused them to be a little more reckless yet a little more adventurous on their journey to the waterblooms.

As the warrior finally crossed the bridge, the two girls led the way, going down a rocky slope and following the naturally made path that was laid out in front of them. Although other caverns would've been much too dark to properly see, the Cave of Rhiyo was created within a cliff that was run down by mother nature, allowing cracks deep inside it to form, allowing light to illuminate the entirety of the tunnel. That, along with the several torches lighting up their path, allowed the two girls to freely lead the way with no fearing of what laid in the darkness of the caverns.

Up ahead, Olberic saw an opening where the sun's light shined the brightest. Nina ran in first to the open patch of land as Lily struggled to keep up with her more adventurous and daring friend. Olberic caught up to them and, immediately upon seeing the flowers that shined bright with a delicate blue glow before him, could see why Nina was so set on gifting her brother waterblooms.

Since the waterblooms were so delicate, they only grew in certain parts of the Riverlands but only if the conditions for them to grow were perfect. Their rarity came about through their need of a perfect environment, an environment that the Cave of Rhiyo provided for them. Olberic took a closer look, realizing that the flower resembled an orchid with petals that were transparent and clear, like the water that flowed through the rivers of the Riverlands, and pulsed every other moment with a blue glow as if the flowers were breathing.

The sight of the waterblooms glowing together as if they were breathing life into themselves was beautiful.

"Don't just stand there!" Nina, hardly able to contain her excitement at the thought of gifting his brother with the flowers, called out to him as she squatted down to pick the waterblooms. Both she and Lily started picking waterblooms from the left side of the field, where they were more plentiful. "Just pick as many as you can!"

Olberic made his way to the furthermost patch of flowers and started to pick some with Primrose on his mind. Although Nina was right about the waterblooms symbolizing the reuniting of two people, she didn't realize that the waterblooms, like most flowers, had various different meanings. Waterblooms also represented beauty even through hardships, a meaning given to them due to their transparent petals and unique growing conditions. Primrose was the very definition of such a meaning. Her physical beauty matched her strong will to keep going even as the world around her tried to break her spirits which, to Olberic, was a unique beauty all on its own.

He felt his heart flutter again at the thought of her just as it did the night they met.

" _Hhhssssssssssssss…!_ "

A dark shadow appeared before him, the sound of its warning a little too late as the shadow emerged and attacked Olberic, aiming for his face. Upon seeing a flash of amber with purple and red blotches, he instantly held an arm to his face to protect himself. The attacker sunk their fangs into Olberic's sleeves, piercing through his arm and causing him to grunt out as the bite caused a burning sensation to travel through his entire arm, causing him to let go of the waterblooms. The flowers floated down to his very knees, the blood trail that fell from his wound tainting the petals. He looked to meet the red eyes that belonged to a giant serpent like creature that kept hissing at him even though it kept itself latched onto Olberic's arm.

As Olberic stared the serpent down, red eyes piercing through his very soul, he carefully drew his sword. He quickly then struck down the creature but missed the head, dodging the warrior's attack as if the serpent anticipated it, striking the body of the creature instead. The strike was enough to free Olberic from the creature, who hissed in pain. Without letting a single second go to waste, Olberic stored his sword away and dashed towards the two little girls that were frightened at the sight of the beast.

He scooped the both of them under his arms and dashed through the cave, never looking back to see if the creature came after them to finish the job it started.

Wounded as it was, it did not.

As the warrior made it to the entrance of the cave, he stopped and put down the two girls to take a breath, his arm still burning from the bite. He felt more worn out than he should have been but he believed that carrying the girls had made him that way.

Lily started to cry from the encounter, "I want to go home!"

Nina just looked at Olberic, worry starting to spread across her face upon seeing Olberic get wearier and wearier.

In the distance, they saw an old man in his late seventies wearing a brown jacket on a cart led by a horse approach them. He was the one that supplied Alfyn and Zeph with medicine supplies if they were too busy taking care of the town to gather the herbs necessary themselves. He waved at the three before noticing that something was terribly wrong judging by the way Lily was crying and how drained Olberic seemed to the man, "What are you three doing out here? These parts of the Riverlands are dangerous!"

Olberic tried to smile a greeting but suddenly started to feel dizzy, a burning sensation spread across to his shoulder. Before he could explain to the man for their being there, the world started to blur, the air around him starting to feel disturbingly cold. He heard a voice call out to him but he could not hear it.

_Not again_ , he thought as everything around him started to fall. This time, however, he didn't fall into a deep sleep. He was able to make out a small blur of a person above him who started to shake him in an attempt to snap him out of his paralyzed state.

He felt himself being lifted onto a wooden floor, two small figures sitting beside him as the blur of the trees and the cloud above him started to move past him.

Two voices called to him but he could not feel or hear anything.

He lay there as he felt the burning sensation consume him in a fire of poison.

* * *

On days where there was nothing to do but check up every person in town, asking how they were doing or blessing them to have a great day as he passed by, Alfyn found himself visiting the cemetery where his mother was buried. Although taking a trip to the cemetery may sound like a bleak idea to many of the younger folks of Clearbrook, to Alfyn it was the most relaxing thing to do in the world for the top of the cemetery was the best place to see the beauty of the Riverlands. It was his place to have some peace, often finding himself talking to his mother about his day was or what his thoughts were, what new concoctions he made or a funny thing that recently happened to him.

His visit on that day marked the anniversary of her passing.

Earlier, he contemplated with her about the travelers and the invitation to go with them. He had the opportunity to become just like his hero but he thought hard on whether to take it or not. It was true that being in the town, helping its people and all, led him to become a better person than he was prior to meeting his hero but was he truly becoming a better man by simply staying and not helping others around Orsterra that needed him?

His thoughts were interrupted by his best friend Zeph, who scolded him for giving out discounts to the townspeople. Apothecaries often made good coin just by helping people but Alfyn didn't have the heart to take the little people had. Alfyn tried to explain his stance but Zeph stopped him, admitting that he was simply teasing him and stating that the village was in the good hands of two selfless souls, "If the villagers are healthy and happy, that's more than good enough for me!"

Alfyn nodded, agreeing with his best friend, "Couldn'ta said it better myself!" He made two fists and placed them in front of himself, putting on the best fighting stance he could do. He punched the air, pretending that the very representation of illness stood in front of him, "Plagues? Epidemics? Bring your worst!"

Zeph laughed at him, remembering how much of a trouble marker his friend was back in the day. While Zeph studied and read books, Alfyn would play all kinds of tricks on the townspeople. Putting bugs into the backs of people, placing buckets of water on top of partially open doors, Alfyn was the unstoppable trickster of the town until Zeph exposed him.

But that still wouldn't stop Alfyn from doing his tricks much to the displeasure of the elderly back in the day. "Who'd have thought that little troublemaker would turn out to be a top-notch apothecary, eh?"

Alfyn bowed, mimicking an elderly man by bending over and grabbing his back, "We can't all be born with a silver pestle in hand, Master Zeph." The two laughed together just as they always did since they were kids. Alfyn loved every moment, good and bad, that they spent together. It was tough for Zeph to take care of Nina after his father passed away so it was always a pleasure for Alfyn to help Zeph remember how to laugh and smile like a kid again.

His heart skipped a beat upon hearing his laugh.

_Better hide these feelings real quick before he notices_.

Zeph turned to look at the grave, beautiful flowers that were just placed that day before the stone marker, which caused Alfyn to also turn. Alfyn's mother, too, was laughing with them, wherever she was. Quietly, he spoke to Alfyn, "Your mother would be proud." His kind words caused him to laugh sadly.

His mother, if she were still alive, would pray to Dohter every day for blessing her with a child like her Alfyn. Alfyn, however, still contemplating about the dancer's invitation, thought that he wasn't good enough just yet to be the man he wanted to be for his mother. "Maybe…"

Zeph readjusted his satchel, "I should probably start heading home. Playing around the way Nina does can make her very hungry and I wouldn't want to hear her complaining on how lazy I am for not preparing something quickly."

Alfyn smiled, waving his best friend off, "Yeah, beat it. Head on home, big brother."

Zeph turned and started to make his way out of the cemetery but the thought of the two travelers Alfyn spoke about earlier during their routines occupied his mind. The way Alfyn spoke about their adventures lit something up in Alfyn's eyes but it was something he always quickly hid from Zeph, hoping that he wouldn't see through Alfyn and his desires.

Despite Alfyn's attempts at hiding his desires, Zeph always saw them. Every time.

"…Hey, Alfyn?"

There was no response from the other apothecary, Zeph sighed, "We've been friends ever since we were small, right?" Zeph had to confirm with Alfyn about what was on his friend's mind, what bothered Alfyn since the day the traveling apothecary visited Clearbrook. "I know you better than anyone. So be honest…" He turned back to Alfyn, who stared at his mother's grave, "You're keeping something from me, aren't you?"

_Aw, shucks_ , Alfyn thought,  _looks like I've been found out, ma_.

Zeph approached Alfyn, "I'm right, aren't I? Alf, the truth is-"

" _Big brother_!" " _Alfyn!_ " " _Master Zeph!_ "

Three voices broke through, the urgency in their voices causing both Zeph and Alfyn to quickly turn to the source. They exited the cemetery, and found Nina and Lily, hands full of waterblooms that have wilted for being held too tightly, who ran to the two apothecaries, burying their faces into their white shirts. Zeph quickly examined every inch of Nina but found that she was unharmed, "Nina, what's wrong?!"

Alfyn looked up from the girl he was comforting, her tears soaking his shirt, and saw the source of their worries. The old man Alfyn kindly asked earlier to get more noxroot and soothing seeds came back with a pale looking Olberic who was coughing up blood.

_What happened to him?!_

Zeph followed Alfyn's gaze and quickly sprung into action, sprinting to help the old man carry Olberic to his home. "Alfyn, this is one of the travelers you spoke to me about! Where is the other one?!"

He pointed to his house, "Don't worry, she's safe."

Zeph nodded, taking charge of the effort to help the warrior into his home, "Let her know what happened and then come meet me. I-I," Alfyn could tell he was nervous. The two had never seen someone emerge from the wild lands in such a state and it was clear that Zeph couldn't properly diagnose him just by taking in the physical symptoms, "I'll need your help in getting him cured."

As he watched the three men vanish into Zeph's house, Alfyn started to head over to his own to inform Primrose of what happened to her dear friend while she was resting, "Gods darn it all, always getting stuck with the worst part of the job." He hurried, fearing that the man did not have long to live before finally taking his last breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun with this chapter! It was fun writing out Nina's character since we barely see her outside of being an NPC that we can interact with.
> 
> Also, I jumped back and forth with who should be the victim in this chapter but found it more fitting to have it come out like this (you'll see why in the next chapter c:)
> 
> Thankfully my college classes aren't too much of a hassle so I should be able to pump out more chapters in a week compared to only once a week
> 
> Thank you for your continued support~! If you like what you read or have some advice consider leaving a comment or a simple kudos! As always, thank you for reading!


	8. Taking What's Necessary

The sound of Olberic's horrendous coughing fit sounded through the quiet house as Zeph checked on whatever caused a warrior of his size to fall so quickly and easily. Primrose, who awoke from her slumber with legs cured, sat on the beside next to Olberic's head, placing a cold hand on his burning forehead. The man, comforted by the cold feeling even in his pained state, placed his hand over hers, squeezing it gently. Even with such a small gesture, Primrose was glad she could give him what little comfort she could provide him with, "Olberic…" She felt absolutely powerless as she saw her companion writhe in pain and it angred her.

Two light knocks sounded at the door before Alfyn walked in to check up on Zeph's diagnosis. He was just outside explaining to the two girls that they weren't allowed inside no matter how badly they wanted to see their new friend. Although he hated telling kids what they could or couldn't do, it was necessary since he didn't want to seem them scared by seeing Olberic the way he was. He walked over to Zeph, who seemed to have finished diagnosing his patient, "Status report?"

Zeph rolled up Olberic's sleeves again, showing two deep puncture wounds on Olberic's swollen arm, the area around them was pale, veins abnormally contrasting his skin, "These look like bite marks." He looked at Alfyn confused as to where they could've come from, "But, I don't know which animal's bite would cause such a reaction of this scale."

The other apothecary examined the wound for himself, making sure that he wasn't causing any more pain by softly handling his arm, and then turned to Olberic. If anyone would know what attacked him it would be the victim himself. Alfyn moved his finger right and left a few times in front of Olberic's eyes and then proceeded to snap his fingers next to Olberic's ear in an attempt to get a response from him. Although Olberic looked awake, he was unresponsive to anything. Primrose also attempted to get his attention by cupping his cheek with her other free hand but Olberic stopped responding to her gentle touch.

He was getting worse.

Alfyn crossed his arms, trying to think of what to do next, "He's fallen into a deep trance. It's getting worse by the second."

Upon hearing that Olberic's condition was deteriorating, Primrose looked to the two apothecaries, her eyes filled with worry over the man who swore to protect her with her life. If she wasn't asleep could she have prevented Olberic from turning up this way? "Please, you have to help him. This man risked his life for me and I barely had the time to properly repay him for his kindness." She shuddered at the thought of losing someone else dear to her, thinking back to her father and Yusufa who both died in front of her. Shaking the thought away, she uttered out, "If he died because I wasn't there to save him I…"

Alfyn sighed as he heard Primrose beg them to do something to save Olberic. If he had the power to work miracles he would but he was at a complete loss. If Olberic was responsive Alfyn would've surely asked him how he ended up the way he did. Without knowing the cause, there was little he could do and who knows what would happen if he was administered the wrong medicine. The results would be disastrous or worse.

_"Instead, I think you should blow off some steam by hanging around these two lovely ladies! I think they deserved to play with a new face if that's not too much for ya?"_

Alfyn then remembered that both Lily and Nina were with him all morning. Not only that, they were there when the old man brought him into the village from the outskirts of the town and they seemed to be much more frightened than they would have been if they simply just saw him.

Maybe they knew something?

"I'll be right back." Alfyn announced, making both Zeph and Primrose look at him, "Zeph, be sure to keep him hydrated. Giving him any wrong medicine could make things worse, and quick. " Zeph complied, heading off to the cabinet where he kept his water supply. Alfyn looked over to Primrose, "Prim?" Alfyn stuck out a thumbs up at her, a gesture of comfort and encouragement, "Just keep doing what you're doing. Even if your friend isn't responding, I know he's glad that you're right by his side." Primrose nodded, keeping her hand on his forehead and watching out for any sudden changes. The words provided her with some comfort but very little of it as she once again sat idly.

Once outside, Alfyn looked out to the fields by the lake, scanning the area for any signs of Lily and Nina. He found them together sitting on the bench that overlooked the lake, Nina comforting the crying Lily that leaned on her shoulder.

"Sorry for intruding," Alfyn's voice caught the two girls off guard, "but do you two know anything about the bite marks on your new friend's arm?"

"Nina…" Lily hiccuped, looking at Nina for an indication on what to tell Alfyn but Nina looked away from the both of them, staring at the lake with a guilty look in her eyes.

Nina was always honest with everything and everyone but the fear of getting in trouble often stopped her from saying anything at all which kept her quiet. Alfyn knew this and tried again, being a little more real with her, "I wanna help your new friend but I can't help him if I don't know what bit him."

Nina always thought Zeph and Alfyn knew the answers to everything she asked them so, for him to say that to her, it scared her. It was her plan of getting the waterblooms that led her new friend getting sick and she desperately wanted to help him, desperately wanted him to forgive her for causing him to end up like he was, "I-I just wanted to get waterblooms for Zeph… Mister Eisenberg wanted to help me and led us to the cave…" She looked down at the ruined waterblooms in her hands, remembering her excitement back at the cave.

She then remembered the fear that washed over her as a giant snake attacked Olberic and the look in Olberic's eyes as he carried them out of the cave. She never left the town without her brother at her side to protect her so the very memory of the encounter, an encounter where she couldn't look to Zeph for help, frightened her. "This giant snake came out from the darkness and then-"

Alfyn's blood went cold. A snake? There were dozens of kinds of snakes in the Riverlands but only two of which were venomous. One was easy to obtain venom from while the other would prove to be a much more difficult challenge that could very well cause Alfyn to meet the same demise Olberic met. Regardless, he pressed on for more details, "What kind of snake? Was it black?"

Nina on the verge of tears, shook her head, "I-I-I can't remember."

Alfyn looked to Lily for an answer, Lily shook her head as well, "N-no it wasn't…"

That only left one other option. "Was it amber with blotches on its back?" Lily nodded much to Alfyn's disbelief, "The Flame take me… A blotted viper!"

That was the very moment when Nina, usually very headstrong, burst into tears, "I'm sorry! It's all my fault he's going to die!" Seeing Nina cry made Lily cry as well. "I just wanted to cheer Zeph up!"

Nina and Lily then felt Alfyn's arm around them pull them into him, hugging the two. He wasn't mad at all at for what they did. On the contrary, he was very relieved to have found out the cause of the strange condition despite it being something that would prove to be his biggest challenge yet. "Thank you, girls. You two were very brave to see your friend in such pain," He broke the hug and winked at them, "Who knows, maybe he'll play with you two again one more time after he gets better!"

The promise of hope cheered the two of them right up.

"Will you save him?" "Please help him!"

Alfyn smiled, making his way back into Zeph's house with the information he needed, "I'll get him right back on his feet! Don't you two even worry!" He entered the house and made his to Olberic's side, Zeph and Primrose both patiently waiting for any information that would help Olberic recover.

* * *

"Good gods… a blotted viper?"

Although both apothecaries knew about the dangerous creature, Primrose was still in the dark and inquired about the monster. They explained that it was one of the only two venomous creatures that lived in the Cave of Rhiyo and that they grew to become three to four times the size of a normal human being. They were strong and fast so taking the venom from one would prove to be a challenge where failure meant death. Its venom would be enough to put an agonizing one-day death sentence on anyone that got bit by one so time is of the essence when it came to creating a cure for a victim.

The only problem was that in order to create such a cure, one must have the original venom in order to create a concoction that combated the very things the venom caused. A perfect ying to the venom's yang. A whole nest of the creatures aside from other monsters lurking in the cave was the only thing in the way of obtaining the venom, a reckless risk that Zeph was willing to take for his patient.

Zeph nodded and started to prepare himself for battle, "I'll leave at once. Please take care of Primrose's friend." Alfyn tried to stop him at his recklessness but Zeph was already out the door. At that moment, the door swung open, Lily and Nina both rushing into the house and stumbling their way to Olberic's side much to the surprise of the three adults. Zeph stopped and turned back to his dear sister, worried about the tears in her eyes.

Nina and Lily looked at Olberic with tears trailing down their cheeks, "Please, please, please don't die mister! I'm sorry for making you like this!" They uttered out apologies after apologies to the man but he did not respond which upset them even more. "Is he going to die?! Please, Zeph, don't let him die!"

Zeph rushed over to comfort the two girls that kept crying, Alfyn smiling as he readjusted his own satchel, "Looks like you have two new patients to take care of! You look after them while I'm gone."

Zeph stood silent, angry at himself that he's letting Alfyn risk his life for his own responsibilities but he was right. He had his hands full with taking care of both the little girls in front of his aside from Olberic and leaving them there would make his less of the brother he was to her. He thanked him and gave Alfyn his blessing, "Come back safe, you hear?"

"Duh, how else do you think he'll get better?" He laughed as he made his leave. He waved at the busy apothecary, "I'll be back before you know it!"

Primrose stood up from the bed and followed him out the door, determined to help Alfyn cure her companion. The apothecary shook his head at her, knowing full well of her want to help him, "You should stay by your friend's side."

"I appreciate your kind words but standing by and doing nothing will not cure him." Primrose stated firmly. She stood by watching Olberic writhe in pain for too long and it was time for her to repay his bravery when he fought by her side back in the Sunlands. Although she never thought she'd risk her own life, her own chance at avenging her father, for another, her feet guided her out the door and to the man that stood before her. "That man saved my life once and I will do anything to repay him for that." But was it just to repay the favor? She didn't contemplate about the reason any further.

Alfyn sighed, "Aw, shucks. Why'd you have to make this difficult for me?" He beckoned her to follow him towards the path leading to the Cave of Rhiyo where the old man sat with his horse. He requested the old man that brought Olberic back to the town to take the two to the cave and he happily agreed to say he'll take them as far as his horse will take them. He helped Primrose onto the back of the wooden cart, "I'd refuse ya but, if I were in your shoes, I'd fight tooth and nail to save Zeph!" It was true, he would fight thousands of vipers if that would save his friend from the claws of death.

Primrose smiled at the man as the horse started trotting along the path, dragging the cart alongside. I'm going to save you, Olberic, Primrose thought as she watched the trees go past her, the village of Clearbrook slowly getting smaller and smaller until it was left behind.

* * *

The old man dropped them off near the entrance of the cave where he found Olberic and the two girls. With a quick thank you, the pair started to make their way to the heart of the cave as the old man stood outside to wait for them.

Alfyn led the way with Primrose following him closely so she wouldn't get lost. Alfyn thought back to when Primrose spoke about her adventures and how she met Olberic. It seemed to him that she had a lot of respect for the warrior but still kept herself guarded for a good reason. Still, he couldn't forget how happy it made her whenever she spoke so highly of him. "So," He began, "Forgive me for prying but this Olberic fella means a lot to you, does he?" Primrose blushed but didn't lose her composure at Alfyn's question. Alfyn knew that it wasn't one-sided as he saw how worried the warrior had been when Primrose's legs were paralyzed from the velvetberries. "And it's obvious that you mean a lot to him too with how much he worried about you!" 

"He's just a companion of mine," She explained to both Alfyn and herself. For many reasons during her time in Sunshade, she guarded her heart against falling back into the familiar feeling of love with her simple respect and admiration being nothing more than just that for her partner. It would take her a long time and a patient lover to have her feel comfortable with the feeling again. The patient partner was right on the nose for Primrose but the time part was just an added part to dissuade her from even thinking of such a feeling now.

Alfyn thought on her response and thought of Zeph. He saw him as a companion, rival, and a best friend. They've grown closer and closer with each passing day to the point where the apothecary's inspiration grew into admiration which, Alfyn realized in the past year, evolved into adoration for his friend. Zeph, however, was still in love with his Mercedes, a girl who he loved since they were kids. Although Alfyn was happy that his friend found his other piece of the puzzle, Alfyn was sure that he'd never meet his own piece anytime soon especially since he convinced himself that his missing piece was right in front of him for all the past years. It hurt him to know that Zeph was the piece that was just too big for him to fit into his life and complete him.

He turned his head towards Primrose, "So basically Olberic is like the me to your Zeph?"

Primrose pondered on the similarity, confused as to what he meant, and nodded anyway despite not knowing fully what his comparison was, "Perhaps a little less than best friends but we are friends nonetheless."

_So it's_ that _complicated_ , Alfyn thought to himself.

The pair reached the bridge, hanging on by the last of its threads, and the each of them took turns crossing it in the fear that their combined weight would cause the breaking bridge to fall apart beneath them. Once they crossed, Alfyn stopped for a second to reach into his bag and pull out a smaller version of the mortar and pestle he had back in Clearbrook. He placed a black seed and some sleepweed into the mortar and started to grind them together.

"Just making something quick," He explained to Primrose as the herbs were crushed together into fine dust, "it's just a little impolite to enter someone's home without presenting a gift after all." A strange way of looking at this, Primrose thought as he watched him make his supposed gift.

Once he was finished, he poured the dust into his hand and squeezed his hand into a fist. He moved his fist right in front of his mouth, slowly releasing the pressure in his hand to let the dust fall out. He blew air into the dust which started to get encased in ice as he let go of the last of the dust, being careful to reposition his hand so he would grab the ice shard. He flicked it several times to remove the sharp and rough edges until it was nothing more than a vial that sealed in the dust he created.

_Ice magic?_

Alfyn looked at Primrose, who stood there looking at him as if he pulled out a rabbit out of a magic hat. He laughed and he put the vial back in his satchel, "I put in a lot of time studying to be an apothecary so I've read a few scholar books to learn some cool tricks."

Primrose thought back to her dark magic, a "gift" from the woman who performed the ritual on her. When she used it she felt like she had no control over it and instead felt as if the magic was using her instead. Maybe Alfyn could help her learn how to use her magic strategically and convert it into her dancing just as Olberic taught her how to wield her dagger. If she could somehow master her magic she can lend better aid when fighting.

Before she could ask for the apothecary to teach her how to precisely control such magic, the two of them arrived at a field with glowing blue flowers. Primrose had never such a sight in the desert and it was hard for her to even imagine that such a dangerous creature lived among the beautiful flowers. She approached the back of the field, noticing that there were some wilted waterblooms with blood sprinkled over their petals. Judging by the prescience of blood, Olberic picked some flowers, letting his guard down, with the girls before being attacked. Why? Surely the two girls working alone to pick the flowers would be enough for Nina's brother.

_Was it for…_

"A sight for sore eyes alright," Alfyn interrupted her thoughts as he examined the same wilted waterblooms, "it makes a good bitters, too. No wonder it's Zeph's favorite." He studied the blood on the flowers and noticed that there was a blood trail leading from where they stood straight towards the entrance of the field. Olberic probably only thought about the girls' safety instead of his own, Alfyn thought to himself, looking suspiciously at the bush in front of them. It was very brave and selfless of him to do such a thing for the girls and was only grateful he could repay the favor by offering to retrieve the venom of the viper. 

"Hssssssssss!"

_Speaking of_ Galdera _himself..._

They both turned to see the blotted viper, a fresh wound at the side of its head. It was giant, just as Alfyn had told Primrose earlier, and blotted with purple spots that resembled skulls on the back of its long, slender body. Red eyes locked onto them as it slithered into an attacking position. Primrose, small in comparison to the creature, pulled out her dagger in case the viper attacked, watching as Alfyn squatted in front of the creature as if the viper was nothing more than a small river snake.

"Aren't you a big mama!" He told the viper, amazed by the size of the creature before him. He stood up and approached the creature slowly, Primrose looking at him as if he were a man driven to insanity to underestimate the creature. "Say, don't suppose you could spare a nip of snakebite, could ya?"

"Hssssssssshhhaaaaaaa!" The viper slithered closer to Alfyn, close enough to quickly swoop in and constrain him with her body.

He shook his hands at the viper as if to stop her approach, "Oh don't get up, I'll help myself to some if you don't mind!" He pulled out an ax from his satchel, the sight of the weapon causing the viper to hiss even louder. Alfyn laughed at how the viper was literally begging him to take some of her venom, "Well shucks, if you insist!"

The viper lunged at Alfyn, fangs at the ready to catch her prey. Alfyn, fully expecting the viper to attack at such a short distance, ran towards her and slid right under the viper as it jumped and got behind out of its line of sight. Blotted vipers were known for their bite but that, however, was only half the story as she quickly grabbed him with her tail, starting to squeeze him tight. A clever creature.

"Alfyn!" Primrose yelled as she ran to save her friend from the viper's constraint. The viper lunged again, this time at Primrose, but she was able to sidestep the attack. She felt lighter on her feet than before, an aftereffect of the velvetberries she assumed, and was able to stick her dagger into the creature, the attack causing the viper to uncoil her tail and drop Alfyn.

The creature began to focus on Primrose instead, slithering quickly to catch up with the woman as she danced around the viper. Alfyn, watching the woman's speed, had an idea on how to subdue the creature. "Primrose!" He got the dancer's attention as she dodged the tail of the viper that tried to sweep her off her feet, "I'm going to distract the viper! Try to get on its head and stick your dagger in its mouth with the pointed end facing down! If you do it facing up it'll damage the glands that produce the venom!" He readied his ax as he looked through his satchel to locate the item he created earlier.

"Are you insane!?" She yelled as she watched Alfyn charge at the tail end of the beast, ax in hand.

"Maybe! But you have to trust me! It's the only chance we've got!" Whatever choice she had in trusting him or not was gone as soon as he ran over and chopped off the tail end of the creature, causing the monster to hiss in pain as she turned around and prepared to strike, the shadow of the beast looming over the small man.

Taking the creature's moment of vulnerability as an opportunity to strike, Primrose jumped on the viper's back and ran up the viper's back, lunging herself at the head. The creature hissed, Primrose's chance to enact the first part of Alfyn's plan appeared. Before the viper had a second to shake Primrose off of herself, Primrose stuck her dagger as instructed, piercing through the bottom of the viper's jaw.

The creature hissed and hah'd as all attempts to close her jaw only led to suffering, instinctively starting to roll over on the ground in an attempt to fool them into thinking she was dead. The creature, as soon as they removed the dagger from her mouth, would strike at them. Alfyn saw right through the creature's ploy as he swung the vial he created earlier right into the open mouth of the creature, the strength in his swing causing her to swallow the vial whole. Primrose, having done her part, went to his side, ready in case the viper gave up the act and attack them again.

He whistled at the beast, "Wow, that worked?"

Primrose, offended that the medicine man had her risk her own life fully trusting the man, scoffed, "You based your plan's success off of petty luck?!"

Alfyn motioned to his partner to calm down, laughing, "I'm just kidding! I would never put your life at such a great risk!" He started to explain his thinking to her, "You see, the viper thinks it's smart but brains only matter if you're one step ahead. Her plan was that if she was no longer able to attack, she would play dead until we let our guards down.  _My_  plan was to follow through with her plan and throw the vial of sleeping dust into her mouth." He touched his mouth with his finger, "The sleeping dust has a fifty percent chance of working if smelled  _but_  when the dust is ingested…"

Primrose looked over to the beast, a thin membrane covering the eyes, as it laid still in the middle of the field of waterblooms. Alfyn walked over and took out the dagger from the inside of her jaw. Primrose expected the beast to rise from the field but it did not, a clear indication that the sleeping powder worked just as Alfyn planned.

Alfyn looked at the great beast that held a certain dangerous beauty to it. "Now then, I'll just take the venom I asked for earlier thank you very much!" He used the dagger to make an incision at the side of the viper's mouth, exhaling his cold breath on the pouring venom to make a vial for it.

The viper's glands were at the side's of the mouth, not the top of it. "Alfyn, why did you lie to me?"

Alfyn whistled a tune as he dug out a needle and stitches from his satchel. "Oh did I now?"

"Yes, you did." She stated firmly as the man began to stitch the incision he made, "Why would you do that if it's better to kill off the monster instead of risking the chance of failure?"

Cutting the end of the thread to finish the job, Alfyn recalled the words of Dohter he once read in a book about his works, "Nature giveth and humans taketh away but not when dost not needest to." He stood up, looking at the vial of green venom in his hand, "In other words, we don't have to take the life of a creature unless we need to." He motioned for her to follow him into the bushes and pushed the branches away to reveal a nest with three large eggs with purple spots on them. "If big mama were to pass away, these little guys wouldn't stand a chance out here all by their lonesome! It's also safe to say that Olberic probably got a little too close to the nest for the viper's comfort and just attacked because she felt the need to protect her special something."

Primrose looked over at the eggs and then back at the mother of them. The man was right to a certain extent. When it came to nature, animals attacked purely by instinct just as humans have an instinct to either fight for themselves or for others. Alfyn passed her dagger back to her but she stood there looking at it, thinking about what she had in store for the three men bearing the marks of the crow. Primrose didn't plan on taking their lives because she wanted to; rather, she needed to. She, much like the viper, had something to protect, her father's honor as a good man of house Azelhart.

Such a thing would require her to take the lives that she herself decided to take as a necessity even if Alfyn and even Olberic might not agree with her.

"Did I say something wrong?" Alfyn asked the dancer.

She put one of her many masks again, taking the dagger from his hands as her resolve burned even brighter, "You said nothing at all." Her mind drifted back toOlberic, sick and dying on Zeph's bed, "We should start heading back."

* * *

Alfyn and Primrose arrived in the nick of time thanks to the help of the old man who rode them back to town.

The door to Zeph's house swung open and Alfyn came through with the vial of venom on hand. Zeph, who knelt down beside the two girls that were calmed down from their worries, got on his feet and rushed over to the smiling Alfyn, "Did ya miss me? Sorry I took so long!"

Instead of paying attention to the venom in Alfyn's hand, Zeph pulled the other into a quick embrace which surprised Alfyn. Pulling back, Zeph nodded, "Alf, I'm just so glad you came back safe."

Alfyn was unable to reply to his friend as his heart skipped a beat from the gesture. Instead of speaking, he placed the vial in the palm of Zeph's hand. The other apothecary examined it, the green liquid moving around inside the vial as he inspected it, marveling at how his other friend managed to get his hands on the venom. After confirming he had what he needed, he quickly turned to his work table and got started on making an antidote, "I can finally get to work! Thank you Alfyn!"

Unable to shake the feeling of the embrace, Alfyn murmured, "Hang in there buddy!"

Primrose noticed how flustered Alfyn got from the embrace of the other, a pink shade starting to form on his cheeks, and approached him, "Everything alright?"

Alfyn avoided making eye contact with Primrose but it was already too late as she knew exactly what Alfyn was feeling, "Nah, it's nothin' special." He started to make his leave but, before he opened the door, he glanced back at Primrose, "Just make sure to keep your friend company. I can't imagine how much pain he must be going through."

Primrose nodded, her word already given to him even before they set off to obtain the venom from the creature. As soon as Alfyn shut the door behind him, Primrose went to Olberic's side. His skin turned paler than before she left and noticed how violently he writhed in pain as he clutched his arm with the other.

The two girls that stood next to her and Olberic looked on with worried faces on the verge of tears again. Primrose set a loving hand on Nina as tears started to pour down her cheeks. "There, there," Primrose cooed as she ran her hand through her hair, "our friend is going to be just fine soon." The soothing gesture and soft words calmed Nina down which in turn calmed Lily. She got to her knees and held Nina's hands in her own, "Why don't you two go outside and play? It's such a beautiful day to be stuck inside crying."

"B-but, what if he wakes up and we're not here to say sorry?"

Primrose smiled at the two of them. They were truly thoughtful and kind girls that would grow up to become beautiful women. "I'm sure he's already forgiven you both."

"P-promise?"

"Promise."

Nina smiled faintly as she grabbed Lily's hand and led her to the door. She looked back at Primrose and waved a small hand at her. Primrose laughed softly and bid them a farewell of her own as the two ran outside.

Zeph turned around from workbench as he quickly made his way to his patient, a mortar on hand. He tipped back Olberic's head slightly and placed the stone bowl at his lips, the blue liquid slowly made its way down through. "Even if he's not all here," Zeph started to explain to Primrose, "he can still do simple things such as blinking and even swallowing so he's able to drink this."

Once Zeph completely finished administering the antidote, he placed the stone mortar down on the floor and knelt down beside Primrose. The look in her eyes reminded him of Alfyn whenever he talked about traveling to far off places or tales he's heard from the other side of the sea. He turned back to Olberic, imagining if Alfyn were in his stead. If he were, Zeph wouldn't have hesitated to retrieve the venom to save his dear friend. "Olberic means something to you for you to risk your life, huh?"

Primrose had a thoughtful look in her eyes as she watched some color return to Olberic's face, "I'm just simply returning-"

A cough erupted from within Olberic, startling both Zeph and Primrose into attention. Upon hearing Primrose's voice, he reached out weakly to his side, seeking something. "Prim…" His voice was raspy and sickly. Primrose leaned closer towards Olberic and placed a hand on top of his to assure the man that she was there.

"I'm here now it's going to be alright." Her voice was like honeydew, an unfamiliar sweetness to Olberic.

She felt Olberic's fingers interlaced with her own. His skin felt rough compared to the softness of her fingers that were never meant to see bloodshed. She expected his hand to be cold from being poisoned but found an unfamiliar warmth that she welcomed. Primrose, surprised at the gesture, lifted her eyes to see that Olberic was still in a trance. "Prim," He began weakly, Primrose felt his hand attempt to hold her own a little more lovingly with a little more strength, "please don't leave my side."

Her eyes widened. A tightness in her chest made her feel lighter. Even after listening to so many men call her many things, she couldn't have possibly predicted herself ever feeling the way she did at that moment and yet she did. As much as she wanted to protect herself from eventual heartbreak, she couldn't help but stumble closer into a familiar warmth that beckoned her.

Closer, but not quite fall into it.

Primrose responded simply by holding his hand a little tighter, "I won't." She let her head rest on her arm as she watched the man, no longer writhing in pain, fall asleep.

Zeph stood up and sat down at a chair in the middle of the home, leaning back in pure relief that the antidote worked. He began to mentally prepare himself for the long day and night that awaited him until Olberic fully recovered from his current state. It was an exhausting job being an apothecary but it was one he didn't mind as long as every face he treated was in good condition. Zeph glanced over to Primrose and resumed their earlier conversation, "So, you're simply what?"

Primrose was too occupied in making sure Olberic slept soundly to even make out what the other was saying, "Hm?" Watching the other sleep was starting to make her drowsy as she nuzzled into the crook of her arm.

Zeph chuckled, "Nothing. Nothing at all."

He got his answer just by simply watching the two together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon that Alfyn's boss is big mama girl with children to protect which is why she attacked in the first place.
> 
> Also, I'm strongly thinking about making another story (13 chapters, one for each god so essentially a story full of one-shots that interconnect) about all the Gods since they BARELY skimmed over the history of them in the actual game. Thinking about it though
> 
> Thank you for the continued support as always! It's always my drive to keep writing this story~! If you have some advice on how to improve (or simply like it a lot a lot ) be sure to leave a comment! Thank you so much to everyone who has been following the story so far! 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!


	9. Someone in a Bind

A gentle touch was what awoke Olberic from his deep slumber. Blinking away the exhaustion from his eyes, he stood up from the bed he was placed on and saw Primrose, her head laying on her other arm, fast asleep on the side of the bed. He vaguely remembered calling out to her after being forced to drink something which stopped the burning fire from consuming his body whole. The serpent, the burning sensation, Primrose's worry, it all started to come back to him. He looked over to her apologetically, a gentleness smoothing out her features as she slept.

_I must've worried her so much._

As he started to check his wound, he noticed that Primrose's fingertips met his own. In fact, her whole hand was sprawled out on his own. In a moment of weakness caught in a dreamlike trance, he asked for Primrose to stay beside him as he started to break through his poisoned state. A blazing heat burned through his face, rivaling that of the painful one he felt earlier, his heart started to flutter anew, but relaxed knowing that he could trust Primrose to be with him even at his lowest. That was it, Primrose was just there for her when he needed her. It couldn't be any more complicated than that.

Olberic sighed as he gently grabbed her hand and studied it, finding a few scratch marks and signs of a struggle laid across the back of her hand.  _Signs of a battle_ , Olberic thought.

"Ah, you're awake!" The voice came from Zeph, the apothecary that worked hard through the night to make sure Olberic made it see the next sunrise. Rubbing sleep away with his hands, knelt beside Primrose and Olberic, releasing silently a thank you to the Gods from his lips upon seeing his patient healthy.

The window served as Olberic's only hint of indicating how long he'd been asleep for told him all. It was the dead of night, the toads and crickets singing their usual songs to those that slept the night away just as Primrose was doing. As Olberic gazed at the outside world, Zeph pressed two fingers against the hand holding Primrose's to check his pulse. The rhythm of Olberic's heart followed the tune of the night, it was a strong heartbeat that indicated he fully recovered from the venom that coursed through his veins. Zeph nodded and congratulated himself for being able to push through for his patient even as sleep beckoned him.

"Thank you." Although so many different words or actions could better express Olberic's gratitude for being alive, he only managed to utter out two simple words. He was a man of a few words when it came to other people saving him, a concept that felt so strange to him. He tried again, "Even though I've fought many a battle, you saved me from a war I could never have hoped to win by my lonesome."

Even if Zeph believed his skills in helping ease the suffering of others were nothing compared to the Unbending Blade's might, Zeph accepted his praise, realizing that they both fought their own kinds of battles. "It means a lot for you to say that, Sir Olberic." The bruises and scratches on Primrose's hands caught the attention of the apothecary. If it weren't for Alfyn and Primrose braving the dangers of the venomous beast, Zeph would've been at a complete loss at how to win a lost battle, "But you owe your gratitude to Alfyn and Primrose, they were the ones that got the venom needed for me to even cure you at all."

The viper's gigantic size loomed over Olberic once more as he placed himself back among the waterblooms. Then, he placed himself back in the Sunlands, where he had given Primrose advice on how to fight efficiently using what she knew. "Primrose?" The sound of her name stirred the dancer slightly but only enough for her to grab onto Olberic's hand, an unfamiliar gesture that once again made his hand stiffen up. Olberic had sworn his loyalty to the dancer but never expected her to risk her life for him.

Zeph smiled, remembering how she had given Alfyn the guilt treatment when he tried to turn her down gently, "She convinced Alfyn to take her so she could save you." Primrose and Alfyn had come back victorious but looked weary from their fight. Once Zeph administered the antidote, Primrose refused to have any sores seen by him until Olberic fully recovered. She was a stubborn one, Zeph thought as he watched how she slept uncomfortably while at Olberic's side. but carried a good heart for those that cared about her. "She stood by your side after you started to recover. Truth be told, I'm kinda worried she'll develop some nasty sores from being on the floor for so long!"

Olberic wanted to wake Primrose and express any and all words of gratitude his heart could say but let her sleep. There would be plenty of time the next morning and the day after for him to pour such words to her if he even felt the courage to say them then. Instead, he conveyed his words into a gesture by tightly holding back Primrose's hand as he laid back down, careful not to disturb her. "My entire life was spent protecting the lives of others, even those that were above me in terms of strength," He laughed at mostly himself and how funny fate was, "never would I have imagined becoming lucky enough to have someone be my shield for once."

Zeph got up from the floor, the memory of Mercedes always bringing him up flashing through his mind. How lucky, he thought sadly as he thought that he was a sea away from his lost love. "I should probably tell Alfyn about your recovery, get some rest while the night is still young."

Olberic hummed in response, the song of the Riverlands lulling him off to sleep as he held Primrose's hand in his. For the first time, he didn't dream of Hornburg.

He dreamt of a field filled with red primroses.

* * *

Alfyn looked out to the lake from the stone bridge, admiring the beauty of everything Clearbrook had to offer him. From the natural beauty that stood around him, a sight he learned to appreciate once he was saved, to the people living in the town, a town ready to be blown off the face of the planet for not really being a noteworthy town, Alfyn learned to admire the beauty of what he had. It was a simple one, no doubt, but it was the very simplicity of it that made it so beautiful.

He thought long and hard on Primrose's invitation. Dohter and the other Gods never made him to simply be a small town apothecary, this much he knew, and yet that was all he ever once. Despite that, he was okay with that fact regardless of how much he yearned to help those that needed him for. Even so, he wasn't sure if he was ready to book it and chase his seemingly harmless yet selfish dream to become just like his hero. The faces he saw every day, how their days were, if they're pushing themselves, he wasn't sure if could just abandon it all.

His mind drifted from one face to another. Alek with the lung problems, Gretas who never smiled for anyone back, the sentimental Meryl, shy little Lily, adventurous Nina, to just leave would mean to never follow the same routine he came to love and see the people he grew close to. Those types of friendships and relationships between Alfyn and each of the townspeople were made to resist the passage of time and power through any plague or disaster but fragile enough to topple over if Alfyn wasn't there to mend and care for it.

As he recalled all of the people of the village, Zeph's smile wandered right into Alfyn's mind just at it always did every time an important decision was to be made and just as it always would for the rest of Alfyn's waking days.

Zeph.

The very name made him fall in love all over again. What he felt for him wasn't something that immediately clicked in him; rather, it was something that developed slowly as he realized how much of himself he saw in Zeph's eyes. With a little rain and the sunshine of Zeph's positively beautiful radiant smile, that shone through even Alfyn's darkest days, the feeling bloomed from within Alfyn. He realized how much he felt for his best friend when he felt connected to him on levels beyond that of another human being. It was as if he tied the tail end his own spirit to Zeph's while he wasn't looking.

Alfyn was always there for Zeph because of his connection to him. If Zeph laughed, Alfyn was the one making him laugh. If Zeph cried, Alfyn was there to make it right again so he wouldn't have to shed another tear. He dedicated the rest of his days to making sure Zeph was just as happy as the people in the village, an optional task Alfyn didn't mind at all taking up. With his best friend at his side, as close as they were, Alfyn felt like nothing could bring him down and found the courage to finally express his love to Zeph last year.

With nothing but love and faith in his heart, he once stepped in on Zeph, mixing and brewing whatever the latest new concoction of the day was, who murmured sadly under his breath. Alfyn had to get dangerously close to even make out what he was saying, not knowing the heartbreak that awaited him. A few mangled words were the only things he made out but the only reoccurring one was that of a name. Mercedes, a long and wanting sigh would come after the name.

It didn't take a scholar to figure out what Zeph was thinking especially for how long he's known him and, before Zeph had a moment to address what was behind him, the presence was gone.

To say it broke Alfyn when he learned that Zeph still harbored strong feelings for Mercedes would be an understatement.

The pain of indirect rejection hurt him, leaving a gaping hole in his shattered heart, but Alfyn continued to try to make Zeph happy. After all, what kind of man would he be to hate seeing the one he loved smile, even if the smile didn't belong to him? Some days were bearable than most and they grew in frequency as the year dragged on. He bore his love on his shoulder on most of those days but it only served to hurt the apothecary as he was often reminded of the reason he wasn't allowed to hold the other in his arms and call him his for forever and beyond the current lifetime.

As the days grew longer, his feelings towards Zeph afterward started to make Alfyn feel like a burden to his best friend, a feeling that would get much worse if he just left, and Alfyn wouldn't stand to leave another burden on his best friend's shoulders. Alfyn sighed, the only comfort being the song that sounded through the town.

Alfyn wished he could just forget it all and start over but it was never just that simple. What a heart, a soul, of a person truly felt could never just be simply forgotten, a fact that Alfyn grew to accept as the harsh reality. Even if another managed to steal his heart, figuratively or literally, he doubted he could ever forget the feelings he harbored for so long for his best friend.

Going on his journey to fulfill the destiny meant for him would only make him miss the other dearly. On the other hand, it could help him to just move on and resume his life. If he did, would he finally find the missing piece of the puzzle he so desperately longed for or would the smiles of others fill in that hole in his heart?

So many variables but the only thing that remained constant was Alfyn's own uncertainty.

He found himself in a bind.

"Alfyn!"

Turning away from his thoughts and feelings, he turned to face his best friend. He looked exhausted out of his mind from laboring all day and night for the travelers but had a big smile on his face. Alfyn knew exactly what he was going to say as if it were written on the back of his hand: "It worked! Thank you so much for… well almost everything!"

Alfyn didn't expect anything else from the man he admired so much, "Well the brew is only as good as the hands that made it! Besides, don't even thank me." Words from a past long gone came back to him. "I just helped someone in a bind, simple as that."

The words struck a memory shared by the both of them. When the Great Pestilence ravaged their village, Zeph's father could do nothing to help ease the sick and dying. As the poor town met its match, a traveler, Alfyn's hero, came and cured the townspeople as if they all only contracted the common cold. The man brewed the best concoctions Zeph and Alfyn had ever seen and it seemed like the man was unstoppable. When it was Alfyn's turn to be saved by him, he asked why he did even if they had little money to spare.

The old man told him:  _I saw someone in a bind, and I helped him out. Simple as that._

Ever since that day, Alfyn longed to be just like him and labored day and night to become the best apothecary he could be. Even when Zeph would give up his studies to rest, Alfyn kept going, believing that the answers to becoming like his hero were in every book, every page, every damn word he read. Alfyn's eyes would light up whenever travelers passed by and Zeph understood what it would mean if Alfyn left to heal the world around him.

And Zeph was ready for that.

"…..Alfyn." He started to confront his friend, who listened intently, "We've been friends since forever now. Every time your eyes light up you have this burning desire to leave Clearbrook and travel to help others in need."

Alfyn laughed, nothing could get by Zeph could it? "You knew."

Zeph shook his head, "Your eyes always light up whenever you even think about travelers going around the world to help people and you act as if I'm blind to see that. I probably know more about how much you want to go than even you do!"

The comment made Alfyn laugh but the feeling of being a burden came back into Alfyn's heart again, "I can't just leave you to look after the whole village on your own! Besides, who else'd cut your ego down to size?" While Zeph tried to be humble about being Alfyn's equal, he always boasted about some new brew that he would develop to Alfyn, who never minded to listen as he admired how intelligent he was. Alfyn started to go through his whole routine, detailing everything Zeph would have to do if Alfyn chose to leave the village: who'd deal with Gretas complaints? and listen to Meryl's stories of unrequited love? Who'd be there whenever Lily and Nina were afraid of the monsters from the woods? Who would be there to take care of everyone?

At the top of his lungs, Zeph yelled out, "Me! I'll do it! I'll do everything and then some more!" His response startled Alfyn and probably - no, most likely - one of the elderly couples sleeping nearby them. Zeph grinned at him, mimicking Alfyn's trademark smile, "I'll make sure to keep everyone in the village happy while you're gone. I swear on my life. So," Zeph looked deep into Alfyn's eyes, the moonlight illuminating Zeph's face as he spoke, "Go out and travel the world. Take care of people, help ease the burden's of those with heavy hearts, and do it all with a clear mind set on doing what's right."

At that moment, Zeph looked like he could take on the Twelve Gods and take them all down with both hands tied behind his back. Alfyn was always the more decisive of the two which led to Alfyn taking charge of taking care of the village while Zeph did most of the heavier brewing but, at that moment, Zeph was on top of the world.

The two seemed to be alone in the world. Time stopped and it was a scene that can only be imagined through in a painted picture, a masterpiece that embodied the thoughts and spirits of the two men. Feelings Alfyn always stored in his heart blossomed upon hearing the other man's words. Seeing the moonlight shine on his face, the determination in his eyes as he looked at him, Alfyn couldn't help but melt on the inside and allow himself to succumb to his emotions.

Besides, who was he to turn down the words of the one who loved him with a much different type of love?

"…shucks."

* * *

The chirping of the song birds, breathing life into the rising morning, stirred Primrose into awakening from her troublesome sleep. A moment of closing her eyes turned into a deep sleep filled with thoughts and worry, that painful night detailed and engraved on her mind with every chance of sleep she managed to get. As she repositioned herself, her shoulders and feet tense from having slept sitting up on the floor, and looked at Olberic, retrieving her hand from his seeing as she fulfilled the part she needed to do.

Color returned to his rugged face, which looked much more peaceful than it did during the long night when the medicine started to take effect. His black hair with strands of white, probably from years tension, disheveled from tossing and turning throughout the night. It looked much better in that state to Primrose. In the light of the morning, Primrose thought he looked handsome, scars and all, as her eyes glazed over the man's face. She'd been with many men off all ages but never found herself looking at them the way she did at Olberic.

Primrose shed one of the many thorns that protected her in that singular moment, exposing her vulnerability to everyone and yet no one all the same. She was glad that she met the warrior when she did. It was ridiculous - no, extremely reckless - that she risked her life for another man but was rather content knowing that she did it for Olberic, not just any man.

Even so, those emotions were just a sign of weakness that would only lead her down a path of ruin more disastrous than the one she was currently on.

A folded letter laid right next to the man's head, Primrose, shaking away a possibility that could never be, opened it and started to read:

_Hiya, Primrose and Olberic!_

_Heard about Olberic's recovery! That's fantastic! I'm so proud of Olberic for being such a courageous guy for staring at death in the face!_

_Much more courageous than I'll ever have that's for sure._

_SO, I've done a lot of thinking. I walked as I thought, I ate as I thought, heck I even thought as I daydreamed about going with you guys!_

_With Zeph's encouragement, I've decided to join you guys if that's still okay?_

_I never meant to ignore the invitation but Clearbrook means a lot to me. Sorry for the wait but I just now realized that it's in the good hands of my best friend._

_There are so many people that need help and I can't believe I'm finally getting to fulfill that dream! You guys will barely even notice I'm there right next to you guys!_

_I'm so happy for this, thank you for inviting me to join us guys (if you guys will still have me [but I hope you guys will, otherwise I'll be a stick in the mud for the rest of my days!])_

_Whenever you guys are ready, I'll be waiting._

_Alfyn_

Primrose smiled at the politeness from the letter, it was clear to her that the man had a good heart and an even greater spirit. Having someone knowledgeable about healing others would serve Primrose and Olberic well. Another soul being there to support their journeys would provide some comfort but it was another soul to keep her story from, especially with how Alfyn views the world and its people, using his skills to heal rather than to kill.

The door opened, bringing Primrose out of her thoughts. Zeph scanned the room until his eyes fell upon Primrose and the still Olberic, his body relaxing upon seeing them. "You guys are still here, thank the Gods!"

Primrose caught a sight at the apothecary's satchel that was filled to the brim, the bag bringing down one side of Zeph as he stood. It was heavier than before for some reason. "So you're the reason for Alfyn's change of heart?" It's obvious that Alfyn held something greater than respect for his friend, remembering the look on his face when he saw how worried Zeph looked when caring for his patient. It was one of sheer determination to make sure that Zeph had nothing to worry about, one that held his friend in a high regard. Primrose knew right away what Alfyn felt for his dear friend.

Zeph shook his head, "More like he needed a nudge in the right direction." He placed a hand on the strap of the satchel to help alleviate his shoulder from the weight of the bag. The man knew everything about Alfyn's desires to travel the world just by looking at his eyes but was oblivious to what contained in Alfyn's heart, not knowing that Alfyn looked at him when his back was turned. "He's my best friend and I'd do anything to make sure he does what he's meant to do!"

 _Poor Alfyn_ , Primrose thought sadly as Zeph said those words. One-sided love was always heartbreaking with the very idea of not being able to have what makes one happy enough to break a man's soul and spirit. She was right about having the man come along with them as his spirit was proven to go above and beyond for Zeph even if his heart, broken, yearned for him.

Still, it was hard seeing two close people part ways after being so close together for so long. She saw it in Zeph's face, a look she probably had in her eyes as Yusufa's life slipped away from her very fingertips. She reassured the worried friend, "We'll take good care of him. Although, I think he'll be just fine on his own."

"I never doubted that," A lie, nothing getting by Primrose and her keen intuition when it came to people, "but I have to give something to Alfyn. That way he never loses his way if he does falter."

Letter on hand, Primrose waved him away, "Go to him then, he's probably not ready to say goodbye just yet without seeing you first." Zeph shot a curious look at her as to what she meant by her words. Primrose knew very well of people finding it hard to say goodbye without expressing themselves to the ones they loved, hoping that they would receive a good blessing for their travels. She saw this with her parents, who shared a short time alone whenever her father had to travel for long periods of time, and saw this with Yusufa and her mother as Primrose remembered seeing Yufa sit next to Yusufa's grave, a quiet farewell. She smiled at the obliviousness of the man before her, "Call it a woman's intuition."

"I guess you're right." Zeph readjusted his satchel as he made his way out the door to resume his search for his friend.

As the door shut behind him, Primrose watched as Zeph made his way towards the cemetery. She felt Olberic move, an arm over his eyes to shield him from the rays of the sun that shined through the window. "Good morning," She told him as he stood up from the bed, "sleep well?"

"Thank you, Primrose." He responded to her, looking at his own hand, remembering of what he felt when told about her actions. Although he still felt many things about the dancer, he couldn't form the right words to say them. Olberic slowly lifted his eyes and saw her beauty, the light of the morning shining upon her as if she were a divine that fell from the skies above.

Primrose recognized the look in his eyes, it was one that many had when they first saw her but, for once, she felt captivated by it. The truth of her past was on the tip of her tongue. She stopped herself from telling him and put back on the thorn she shed earlier. It was foolish of her to ever think of such a feeling especially with such a goal on her mind. It would be even more foolish to allow herself to have someone distract her from her ultimate goal.

She simply nodded, tearing her eyes away from the man, "I simply repaid the favor." The tone monotone yet regretful? She grew fond of the man after the few days of their being together, a fondness that would grow dangerously close to shattering between her feet the closer they got to Stillsnow. She feared to lose the companion she grew close to and forbid herself from going beyond a simple friendship with the man in the hopes of avoiding heartbreak and despair.

Silence filled the air between them. Primrose placed Alfyn's letter in the palm of Olberic's open hand, "Looks like we'll have someone else tag along for the journey." Olberic read the letter, smiling. The two agreed that having the man by their side was an excellent addition not only to them but also to him as the three of them would have to stop by various towns and cities, perfect opportunities for Alfyn to fulfill his wishes.

Olberic and Primrose sat there for a moment longer, staring at the beauty of the Riverlands together, before getting up to start preparing for the long journey ahead of them, not knowing where they were headed, hearts filled with unknown possibilities.

* * *

Alfyn, satchel ready with the basic necessities, found himself once again in front of his mother's grave. He prayed that Primrose and Olberic found his letter. Although he wrote that he wasn't sure if the two would accept him to become a part of his journey, his heart knew otherwise. Dohter and the other Gods set up his fate in a way that everything that occurred in the past few days was meant for a reason and it would be ridiculous if Dohter placed the two travelers at his doorstep as a mere tease.

Knowing his luck, it could still turn out to be that way.

Alfyn took in the sight of the Riverlands, admitting to himself that he would miss the view and his mother. He told her of his decision to leave and asked for her blessing, asking her to watch over him as he set off into the unknown world. It was scary, to say the least, but it was something he had to do no matter how shrouded in mystery his path may be.

Footsteps approached behind him, Alfyn didn't bother to turn around knowing full well who it was. "Thank the Gods you're still here."

Since the night before, Alfyn thought long and hard about Zeph's words to him, about the feelings he harbored for his friend. It was already hard enough for Alfyn to say goodbye to everyone in the village, Nina and Lily included, both of them crying when they heard about his leaving soon, but he thought he could get away before saying goodbye to his friend. Alfyn, knowing his sentimental self well, knew that saying goodbye to Zeph would be the hardest thing he would have to do.

Prepared to say his goodbye and let go of the feelings he had for his friend by making them known, fully prepared for the rejection, Alfyn uttered out, "Zeph… I-"

His friend approached him, causing Alfyn to turn and saw that Zeph's hand, struggling to maintain the weight of the heavy satchel, held out his satchel to him. "I know what you're going to say. I know you didn't want a going away party and it's nothing special but I want you to take my satchel. That way, no matter where you go or how far you travel, I'll always be right by your side."

Zeph was always the cheesy one out of the two. Alfyn, forgetting the words that were about to burst out from his chest, looked at the satchel that was more worn out than his own, it had seen better days and that day was not one of them. He studied it closely and saw the stitches to patch up the bag. The way he took care of things was in everything he did and it was apparent to Alfyn, who laughed at the loving gesture. He was a complete sucker for everything Zeph did, "Wow," He poked at one of the stitches, which started to collapse on him upon being touched, "You weren't kidding when you said it's nothing special."

The comment flustered the other, "It was the only thing I could think of…"

An idea struck Alfyn. He took off his own satchel and traded his own for Zeph's, "Then take mine! That way I'll always be with you no matter how hard your days get!"

Call him a copy-cat but Alfyn wasn't going to let Zeph bask in the glory of his gesture all by himself. The truth was that his heart was about to burst for his friend and that was something he couldn't let himself do. The risk of pushing away his friend was just another burden he wasn't going to push onto Zeph's shoulders. Instead, Alfyn transferred all of his thoughts and love for Zeph through handing him something that was precious to Alfyn, a symbolic gesture of letting go what he held onto so deeply for so many years.

His friend took it eagerly, swinging the bag over his shoulder and admiring the beauty of all the years Alfyn put into making sure he had everything needed to take care of Clearbrook. "Now there's a plan! I'll put it to good use!"

Alfyn sighed, finally coming to terms with himself and his heart, and started to walk away, a hand raised to bid farewell to his friend. Even though he wanted to hug his friend, kiss him goodbye, wish Zeph a good life until Alfyn returned back to Clearbrook, he just couldn't let the other see the tears in his eyes. "See ya around."

"Be safe out there, friend."

With that, Alfyn's heart was finally free.

At least, for the time being it was.

He made his way out of the cemetery. The thought of his feelings for Zeph being buried deep within the sacred grounds made Alfyn laugh as he made his way towards Olberic and Primrose, who stood outside of Zeph's house waiting for him which gave Alfyn the impression that they would love to have the man accompany them. Primrose noticed how red Alfyn's nose was. Everything went exactly as she thought it would.

Primrose walked over and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, fully understanding the sentiments of their new companion. "It's hard saying goodbye," She told him, thinking back to Yusufa, "especially when we can never truly find the words to really say goodbye."

Alfyn shrugged, dismissing his tears as nothing more than specks of dust flying right into both of his eyes, "Introductions are probably harder. Gotta make a lasting impression, ya know?"

Olberic nodded, "And a lasting impression you shall make. I have no doubt you'll be of great service to those you meet." He noticed that the man before the pair started to sniffle, a tear shedding and trailing down his cheek, "Are you… crying?"

The thought of finally being able to set off on a journey he was destined to take made Alfyn more sentimental than he already was. Although he tried his hardest to not make his first impression as a traveling companion to the pair be one that showed his weaker side, Alfyn just couldn't help but express his gratitude of having such an opportunity through his tears. Alfyn wiped the tears away from his eyes, "Just a speck of dust is all."

That's all he ever was. Just a tiny speck of dust waiting to see the huge world who just got picked up by a turbulent wind, thrusting him into a journey full of unknown variables and outcomes, full of people that needed him just as much as he needed to help them out. He would heal them, rich and poor alike, and respond to their questioning of why he did what he did with a simple phrase:

He saw someone in a bind and simply decided to help them out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live for unrequited feelings!Alfyn and I hope you guys enjoyed sharing Alfyn's experience of having such feelings for something he can't have.
> 
> A bit of fluff and more feeling put into this chapter (trying to get better at writing out developing relationships) so I'm happy that it came out in a way that was way better than I expected!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and be sure to drop a comment if there's some advice you can offer me or if you simply liked the chapter! Thank you so much to everyone that dropped a kudos, a bookmark, or a sub on my series (trust me it makes me SO happy to know people like the story so far) Thank you for reading as always~! I'm always driven by my readers~!


	10. One's Treasure, Another's Trash

The Cliftlands were rocky and canyon-like lands, the pathways set upon cliffs that broke apart from each other to reveal trenches with the lands only water source at the very bottom of them. Even though the heat of the lands was nothing compared to that of the Sunlands, the sun shined down upon the lands and blessed them with its raging heat. Since the lands had scarce water and vegetation, the creatures were forced to scavenge for things to eat, things that would soon collapse and kiss death on the lips.

Although Olberic was more than happy to take on the role as the lead hunter, having some experience hunting during times of war where rations usually went quickly, but it soon proved difficult to hunt with a sword on hand and even more difficult to strike down birds of prey that loomed over them with a makeshift polearm. Without the adequate provisions to feed the three, they would surely die unless they turned back to Clearbrook and resupplied with the single leaves they had left.

Luckily, Alfyn didn't have such a hard time finding things for him and his companions to eat as they traveled through the dry, desolate canyon and into the North Bolderrfall Pass. Throughout the last few days of the trio traveling together, Alfyn, who often survived on two coins and the clothing on his back alone, taught the other two to follow smaller critters incapable of taking down bigger predators to see where they got most of their food from. It was successful for the most part as the three scavenged the remains of edible herbs in the places they followed the wild game to.

When the sun started to set, they made a temporary place of themselves to rest, using dry leaves and grass to start a fire that would keep them warm throughout the night. Although the creatures of the Riverlands were kept away by the smell of burning grass, those of the Cliftlands, hungry for a quick meal in the dry canyon, would do anything necessary to ensure their survival even if it meant dealing with such a revolting smell. The three decided to take turns watching over the other two, exchanging posts with each other every three hours.

By the time it was Olberic's turn to stand watch, the moon hung over his head.

Although the warrior never expected to have the company of anyone during his journey, he found himself thanking Brand and the other Gods for such a twist in his fate. To travel a lonely journey would have meant traveling a path with a thorn of the past at his side. With the two simply being at his side, he thought very little of the nightmares that plagued him every night.

Alfyn, body sprawled all over the ground he laid on, snoring his throat off, had an infectious optimistic personality that occasionally brought up Olberic's spirits. His words were wise, occasionally reminding Olberic that he was a human and nothing less of it, and intentions were pure, traits that Olberic was glad to have in someone he called a friend. Primrose, curled up into a ball next to Olberic, had a much more relaxed demeanor as she acted as the voice of reason to Alfyn's more energetic spirit. She watched over the two men with great care as the days went past them. The three of them seemed to be an odd trio of companions with their different personalities but they all seemed to compliment each others'.

As their journey together grew older by the day, they seemed to get much closer. Olberic glanced over to Primrose. She never spoke to either of the men about what set her sights on the town of Stillsnow aside from the hooded man bearing the crow on his left arm and the two never pressured her to reveal her hidden motives. Olberic hopped that one day she would trust him enough to reveal her plans to him. Even though the woman was distrusting of the warrior since the beginning, Olberic noticed how she started to tear down her walls around him as they started to understand each other better, a fact made even more known after Olberic's encounter with the blotted viper.

From the few conversations and interactions they shared together, Olberic made her out to be a woman with a guarded heart around others until proven that they are kind hearted. She was wise, experience being her teacher, and charming, expressing gratitude through taking care of those she held dear. There was a strength in her that hid deep within her as well as a burden that burned alongside it.

Olberic admired the woman and was glad that they have grown closer, that fate even placed them on the same path. It was strange how their growing relationship was changing Olberic as Primrose danced around his mind more and more with every passing day. There was never enough time in the world for Olberic as he listened to what she had to say whether it was about where they were going or if voicing some concern over Alfyn's interest in the new surroundings around him which lead him to being reckless.

Admiration turned into adoration, Olberic noticed, as he grew closer to the dancer.

Olberic shook the thoughts away, dismissing Primrose's actions for the past few days as being nothing more than her simply expressing concern over him. Besides, he had lost his purpose and what good would he as a man to her if he truly knew nothing about what he fought for? If he failed to protect his king and his kingdom then he would surely fail in protecting the dancer and then where would his purpose go after his failure? Nowhere except into the clutches of the void buried deep within his heart.

That was something he couldn't risk.

Alfyn's snoring, getting worser with every breath the man took, brought Olberic out of his thoughts. He laughed quietly to not disturb either of the two. Alfyn was a breath of fresh air compared to the other two serious ones. Even though he only just recently joined them, Olberic and the apothecary bonded quickly over mutual respect for each other's skills and their love of drinking, the two promising that, whenever they had the leaves for it, the two would drink a night or two away in the company of one another. Alfyn acted gentlemanly with Primrose, asking her occasionally from time to time if she needed to stop and rest, and Primrose looked after him, apparently knowing something that resided deep within the medicine man that Olberic did not know about. As the party's main healer, Alfyn made it his mission to gain the trust of his companions and that meant developing a close bonds with them, creating them with such ease with his charisma.

Olberic looked up to the night stars, unable to imagine a different life without the two of them, "My fate couldn't have turned out any better."

The song of the night was his only company aside from the crackling of the fire. He gazed into the fire that burned bright, the flames flickering and whipping at the cold air around it. Nights of Erhardt and him camping out in the outskirts of Hornburg, sharing funny tales of the things they've seen together throughout their knighthood, came back to Olberic. Erhardt was a man of a good heart and had a strength that was only rivaled by his drinking capabilities. Olberic, time and time again, tried to come up with a reason as to what changed inside his friend but not a single one of them made sense to him.

They were brothers related only through spirit and will alone. They fought at each other's side never letting the other falter, they drank their nights away together until Olberic was no more, Olberic was one side of Hornburg's blade while Erhardt was the other. Erhadrt should have been able to tell Olberic whatever was on his mind but Olberic never suspected anything was amiss since his friend always had a smile on his face, a mask hiding a distorted truth.

Olberic gazed at the spot beyond the fire where Erhardt would usually sit only to find nothingness. Nothing made sense to Olberic anymore. From beyond the spot, there was a shadow that stood close to the face of the cliff in front of the campsite. A quiet laugh, then silence. Olberic, never lifting his eyes away from the shadow, carefully grabbed his sword, not making any sudden movements to alert the intruder.

The sword shined with the light of the fire. The shadow moved suddenly but only slightly, the figure going low to the ground. Then, in an instant, it dashed towards the fire. Olberic kept his sword high, his two other companions sounds sleep. "Primrose! Alfyn!" They did not stir from the sound of Olberic's voice, exhaustion getting the better of them.

The shadow pounced through the fire. Either from exhaustion or lack of real food, he thought he saw the face of Erhardt, a spirit that leaped from within the darkness of the past into the fires of Olberic's reality. The figure knocked him down to the ground, the hallucination of his old friend's face fading away to reveal the snout of a Laughing Hyaena, laughing at Olberic's misery. The laugh was enough to spring the other two into a sense of urgency, both of them quickly turning to the source only to find Olberic struggling with the beast, two hands prying open the mouth of it in an attempt to spare himself from being mauled.

Alfyn, taking out his axe from his satchel, quickly got up and ran to assist his friend. He swung his axe at the creature too busy to notice his fast approach, "Let me axe you a question, buddy!" The axe dug into the hind legs of the Hyaena, causing it to quickly tumble onto Olberic's side. It laughed at them as it got back into an attacking stance, it's hind leg wounded but the creature's hungry gaze set on taking down both of the men.

It ran to Alfyn, angry at the apothecary for getting in the way of obtaining his meal for the night. Alfyn raised a hand at the creature, icy mist gathering in the palm of his open hand. "Sorry but you need to chill out!" An ice lance shot directly at the beast but shattered on impact, not a single scratch was left on it. The Hyaena laughed but not at its attacker failed attack or pun. It laughed as he knocked the man down to the ground with its body, barring its teeth as he swooped down to bite him but getting caught on the handle of the axe the man shoved in it.

In the midst of their struggle as one desperately tried to get the upper hand on the other, a light shined bright behind them. The Hyaena, laughing in sheer pain, desperately tried to get away, the smell of burning fur potent and filling the air around them. The beast let go of the axe handle, a paw stomping on Alfyn's forehead as the Hyaena made a run for its life into the shadows of the Cliftlands. Alfyn, rubbing his aching forehead, looked up to see Primrose holding a piece of fire wood that still bore the flame it was a part of.

"If ice doesn't harm it," Primrose explained her process of thinking, throwing the wood back into the flame, consuming it whole, "why not try burning it with fire? I noticed that the creature had fresh burn marks across its face and thought of the idea." She helped Alfyn up from the ground.

It was true. Earlier when the beast attacked him, he noticed that deep red marks ran across from the Hyaena's snout to right side of its neck. Olberic, after getting up and collecting his thoughts from the encounter, found the marks strange since no other creature that lived near the town of Bolderfall used fire magic to the extent of burning the creature badly. Whatever caused the Hyaena to come across and attack Olberic was surely just frightened as scavengers from the Cliftlands were not known to attack without reason.

"We should be on our guard," Olberic advised the other two, his sword at the side, "Those marks are a sign that something - or someone - is out there." He was sure that each one of them were capable of defending the other two but it was better to be safe than caught off guard and placed into a terrible position.

The three of them agreed to stay up through the night until there was enough light for them to see where they were going. They started to talk amongst each other with Olberic complimenting Alfyn's ability to quickly strike with his axe and then immediately conjure up a weapon made of ice. "Aw, shucks," Alfyn blushed, the man not knowing how to take a compliment from a man who was the definition of strength. "It's really nothin' special."

Primrose thought back again to Alfyn's ice magic. He was able to use it precisely to create delicate containers for his concoctions as well as conjure up weapons from out of thin air. Magic takes focus and Primrose figured that if Alfyn, a man with his focus all over the place yet still set on a single goal, could control his talents then perhaps she could as well.

"Alfyn," She began, "what do you know about dark magic?"

Alfyn and Olberic stopped their conversations upon hearing such a question about the forbidden magic. "Dark magic?" Not everyone in Orsterra knew the dangers of using such a type of elemental magic since no one was able to get their hands upon the books detailing how to acquire it in the first place. Scholars and some monsters of Orsterra were the only ones that could learn and use such magic. If one was gifted with the power to speak to animals or knew a friend of a friend who knows a scholar personally, then that person was in luck to even learn a speck of that type of black magic's secrets.

Alfyn knew a thing or two about the magic Primrose spoke of. After all, Zeph's father was the one that provided him and Zeph with all the books necessary to become an apothecary and owned a few books detailing how to learn and use certain types of magic. While the two of them, still children and knowing nothing about the dangers of wielding such elemental power, were eager to learn how to shoot ice and wind out of their hands, Zeph's father sat them down and lectured them, talking about how dragons bestowed their knowledge of magic, a gift granted to them from the Gods, to the people of Orsterra.

There were only six types of magic, five of them depending on the user's output of physical energy to produce whatever it was the user desired if they had the energy to produce it. Wind magic can make the user evade attacks with ease just as light magic heals and blesses. The only type of magic that didn't follow such a rule was dark magic. "I know a few things 'bout it." Alfyn replied, "What do you wanna know?"

The ritual, the woman from Whispermill, the dark magic, Primrose explained it all to Alfyn who listened. Once she was done, she held up her hand to her face, studying it, "Ever since then, I've had the ability to use dark magic but I remember being controlled by something the first time I used it." The woman crossed her mind again. Her smile burned bright in Primrose's mind which made her shiver at the thought that she was being controlled by someone else.

"That's 'cause you were." Alfyn explained, the warnings from Zeph's father coming back to him as he recalled his teachings, "Ya see, spreadin' knowledge of dark magic became forbidden to everyone that wasn't a scholar because physical energy isn't enough to use it. People found out how to steal the energy from around themselves and learned how to unleash it's full potential."

Unlike how Alfyn explained it to Primrose, Zeph's father was much more harsh, his words with the intent to make sure the two boys knew nothing of the Galdera's magic as he explained that people learned to sap the life out of others to destroy whole towns and villages.

He pointed a finger to his head, "Since you didn't know how to gather the physical energy from around you, I reckon you accidentally let that magic sap some of your mental strength. Usin' too much of that without having the proper strength to withstand it could have driven you to insanity which, if ya asked me, was probably that woman's goal to begin with."

Primrose's hand tightened. That woman planned to use her as a pawn in a plan that Primrose knew nothing about. What would she achieve by giving her such a dark curse? She wouldn't use it in favor of the woman's ploy. The way the magic held Helgenish in its grasp, however, proved to be helpful in saving Primrose's life. Although it would take years for her to have the mental fortitude that rivaled that of a scholar's, perhaps there was another way to produce that type of magic without losing her mind to the darkness.

She glanced at Alfyn, "Is there any way for me to use a different energy in its place?"

Olberic looked at her as if she had already gone mad, "Primrose, as someone who swore their life to protect you I cannot allow you to- "

"And what if you can't protect me? If my dagger fails me, should I just embrace death?" She was back in the Sunshade desert, body on the ground as she watched Olberic, much too far away from her to stop her from meeting her fate. The words cut through the air and made Olberic fall silent while Alfyn watched, not daring to get in the middle of them. Her words held a foreseeable truth that Olberic couldn't avoid for much longer until the day arrived too late for him to realize it. Such words caused Olberic to fall silent. "Thank you for worrying but I wouldn't be myself if I always relied on you." That wasn't the only reason she wanted to learn. While it would prove useful for her for the battlefield, she thought that maybe someday she would be able to save Olberic when her dagger couldn't, a thought she would never share with anyone else but herself for the time being.

"Hmm." Alfyn pondered about Primrose's question. The fight against the blotted viper and how Primrose danced around it to dodge the beast's fangs came into his mind as he pondered. Magic relied on the physical energy of a stationary user but dancing produces both kinetic energy, transformed from the potential of the user to spring into action, and body heat. Although it would exhaust anyone else quickly, Primrose's stamina to dance and move for hours at a time would make it possible for her to produce the energy necessary to unleash the dark magic within her.

Alfyn hit the palm of his hand with a fist, he was a genius! 

"Why not focus your dancin' on making the magic happen?" He held up an open hand and began to explain the logic behind his thinking, "If you make your dancing do the work you'd have all the energy necessary to conjure up your dark magic. It'd be weaker but it'll get the job done."

Primrose raised an eyebrow in surprise of the man's words, "So it does think."

Alfyn was the reckless type, choosing to slam his head through a door instead of getting his foot through in everything he did. Such a personality made many think of him as someone who tossed out the notion of thinking and instead opted to let his actions speak for him. He laughed, "I may not act like it but I did occasionally read a book once or twice in my life." A half-truth, for Alfyn, after deciding to become an apothecary, read Zeph's entire library of books in three years only to do it again a second time. Long nights of staying up to read often caused him to fall asleep during Zeph's father's lessons, giving him the impression that he just didn't care enough when it was the very opposite of that.

The two of them got immediately to work on testing the hypothesis while Olberic watched, worried about the dancer. He was tasked with guarding their single bag of belongings, which was slung over his shoulder, and the satchel Alfyn placed right next to him. Earlier, while Primrose's back was turned, Alfyn, seeing the look in Olberic's eyes as he took off his satchel, asked if the warrior was okay with the dancer's risky attempts. Olberic nodded quietly saying, "If she's got her mind set on something, I don't dare get in her way unless I wanted to find myself with an open neck wound." Alfyn chuckled nervously, agreeing with Olberic. 

As the night grew older, Alfyn took her step by step through the process, instructing her to think of what she wanted to do with the power in her. "The trick is to clear your mind and just think on one thing." He demonstrated by producing a small snowflake in his hand, "Now you try! Think of literally anything you want your magic to do! It's the strongest of the five so the possibilities are limitless!"

Primrose tried to concentrate but her mind was scattered. She had dozens of ideas, dozens of things that would help Olberic and Alfyn in battle, but was indecisive in picking a single one. Her body spun in a circle as one of her hands reached for the stars while the other was outstretched towards the earth below her, the world twirling around her as if it participated in the dance with her, and outreached a hand to Alfyn. A dark energy emitted from her hands and feet and then vanished. She felt herself get a little tired but the feeling of being controlled by something didn't wash over her as it had before. The three of them waited to see what Primrose conjured with her dark magic.

But nothing happened.

Alfyn finally took a breath having held it in as he awaited a disaster. Frustration was painted on Primrose's face as she failed to conjure anything, a feeling Alfyn could relate to. "Don't worry, it always happens the first time around." He remembered a trick Zeph taught him when he kept failing and thought it would be wise to share it with Primrose, "Just focus a little stronger as if you're powering yourself. You can even think of a name to help yourself focus!"

Primrose, taking the advice of her instructor, got into position again. This time, she stood grounded and growled at Alfyn, "Watch me now!" As the world circled around her, she couldn't focus her thoughts on a single effect as her mind. She kept spinning once, twice, thrice, a fourth time in an effort to focus her thoughts but failed miserably as her dance ended with an outreached hand, a darkness pursuing from it, towards Alfyn.

"Bewildering Grace!"

Again, nothing happened.

Suddenly, a thin dark veil enclosed her in a sphere before it disappeared into thin air. Primrose smiled, it worked! Before Alfyn had a moment to congratulate the dancer on her success, a flicker of light shone below Primrose's feet and the ground exploded below her. Olberic, seeing that the dancer placed herself in a dangerous spot, ran to her but saw the dark veil reappeared and popped. It reflected the effects onto the ground below Alfyn, causing Alfyn fall backwards on his feet as they burned with a painful sensation. Alfyn, quick to measure the damage Primrose's spell caused, quickly took a look on his feet only to find that the pain ceased as quickly as it started and saw that there was no damage done to him.

Although shaken from whatever just happened, Primrose celebrated her victory. She waved at Olberic who couldn't make sense of what just happened, "It worked!" She walked over to Alfyn and helped him up get back on his feet.

Alfyn, thankful to have gotten out of the ordeal with his life, gestured for her to calm down as he caught his breath, "That's great and all but let's both promise to never do that again." The dancer laughed as the apothecary breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Primrose danced and danced the night away as Olberic and Alfyn, who stood away at twice the distance than where he originally was, watched Primrose as she choreographed the various dances that produced numerous beneficial and destructive effects. By the time the sun peeked over the Cliftlands, Primrose, extreme exhaustion finally catching up with her, created seven unique dances each with their own effects and perfected them.

Olberic watched, captivated by the way her body moved to the rhythm of the the gold bangles on her wrists. A sudden wind that came and went behind Olberic was the only thing that disturbed him but didn't look over his shoulder, not wanting to take his eyes off of Primrose. He clapped out of respect and appreciation for Primrose's performance as Alfyn and Primrose, who slung her arm over the medicine man's shoulder as a support, walked.

She did a small curtsy in response, accepting the man's gesture of praise.

"Say," Alfyn began, glancing at the place where he originally put down his satchel, "did you move my satchel?"

Olberic's eyes followed Alfyn's only to see that the brown bag had suddenly disappeared without a trace. The sudden wind that blew earlier occupied his mind as he looked over the cliff's horizon, the only thing being visible was the very top of the adjacent cliff, the town of Bolderfall looming over the three travelers.

* * *

The morning hours in the town of Bolderfall, a town built on top of the highest cliff in the canyon-like region of Orsterra, were the quietest it would ever be on a typical day. It was too early for noblemen and townspeople to wake from their slumber and much too late to be drinking for the local ruffians, who would surely go to bed and find themselves hungover in the later afternoon. The poorer section of the town that lay just below the land where the middle-class lived was equally as quiet, not a bandit in sight that prowled the streets in hopes of finding an unlucky person.

That is, if you counted one that wasn't currently on the prowl.

One bandit, neither a local nor a traveler, sat at the very end of the two stairways that connected the lower part of the town to that of the more pleasant looking side of the town. He was just making his way up north towards Bolderfall when he came across a seemingly clever Hyaena who decided to stalk and attack the wrong traveler which lead to the Hyaena being burned at the side of its face. The encounter didn't leave the their unharmed but he received Aeber's blessing as he arrived to Bolderfall safely with the first loot of the day, a sign that good fortune awaited him on such a morning for the thief.

Or so he thought as he began to rummage through the satchel, sorting through the valuables.

A handful of soothing seeds and purifying seeds were the first things he fished out.

_Trash._

The seeds were tossed behind him.

A few vials containing the same color of the weeds and herbs in the satchel were pulled out.

_Smaller trash._

The vials were discarded to the side, shattering on impact.

The more time the bandit spent looking through the satchel containing only herbs and concoctions the more he started to feel a little guilty about taking the satchel from the unsuspecting warrior. He almost felt bad about how unbelievably broke they were.

Almost. Too bad so sad for them not keeping an eye on their belongings.

The thief kept looking through the bag in hopes of finding something that was at least a little useful to him. A few leaves, half eaten stems of healing grapes, it would have to do for the bandit as he pulled them out of the bag and put them in the front pocket. At least the warrior was kind enough to indirectly sponsor the thief an early morning drink.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted something red under a folded letter at the bottom of the satchel. Upon digging it out, he realized it was a red apple, the color of the fruit only found in the Riverlands, with the words 'from Zeph' engraved on the skin of it. A faint memory of a smile and an apple in his hands that was as red as the apple he currently held flashed through his mind. Sending it back to where it belonged, in a reserve of suppressed and pointless memories, he took a big bite out of the apple. The skin was flavorless but the crunch of biting into the apple was just as satisfying to hear as it was to taste the sweet, a little sour and bitter but mostly sweet, flavor of the fruit.

The thief would have to steal more of them later if he found any.

With the strap of the satchel over his shoulder and the satchel hidden under his worn out, dirty lilac colored shawl, the thief stood up and readjusted the purple scarf he had on as he noticed that the sun was rising and it was getting hotter. He took another bite out of the apple, a second one, a third, he kept eating until all that was left was the core, even then continuing to eat. The dawn of a new day full of riches to be stolen.

He made his way to the tavern as he usually did when he stopped by the town. Although the thief frequented many of Orsterra's taverns, he never went for the mead or the fine wine they served even if the taverns he visited were known for brewing. Alcohol made the lips of noblemen, guards, and ruffians loose which made for great hints as to where or who to get the thief's next big paycheck from. The only reason he visited the town, aside from a little trip down memory lane to remind himself of why he walked his path alone, was that the speciality ale of Bolderfall, made from apples, was his favorite thing to drink from time to time.

Entering the tavern, he found two brutes at a table who conversed amongst themselves about a master thief and his latest hauls. The bartender recognized the thief the moment he entered, flashing a welcoming smile at a familiar face. "You're early!"

The thief brushed off the man's greeting, never liking that people started to recognizing him. Maybe it was time to start taking his business to the eastern side of Orsterra. He placed the few leaves he stole earlier on the table, "The usual."

The bartender poured him the ale, chuckling and muttering something along the lines of a ' _yup, that's him_ ' under his breath. He slid it down the table to the thief, who caught it and brought it up to his lips. Slightly sweet and satisfying, just like the fruit. He nodded a thank you to the bartender.

The brutes talked amongst themselves even louder as they drank down their ale, talking about robbing a merchant blind and laughing about how the master thief didn't get his fill at a fancy manor. They both contemplated on how the man got past the guards but the thief laughed about how the guards he slipped by the other day were more of decorations than anything else. The other brute who wore a green bandana changed the topic of the conversation, "Ain't no point swoonin' over someone else's work! Someday we'll make it as big as that thief, an' then we'll be the talk of the town." The other brute, wearing a red bandana, agreed, calling the other man his partner.

The word partner was nothing but a wound that the thief carried with him everywhere he went for the past six years. His mind drifted back to the jail cell where he met his ex-partner, Darius, who were both locked up on differing levels of theft. While the man with hair the color of an orange flame, bruised and beaten to a pulp by the guards, picked the lock to their cell door, he advised the younger thief to play nice with the guards since that'll get him by. The thief was not one to play nice with others and took out the cell door key he stole earlier to unlock the door to their cell. Darius noticed the talent the younger thief had and decided to take him under his wing, claiming that the two would be the best thieves the world has ever seen.

He slammed his empty glass on the table, the scar on the left side of his face that went down from his eyebrow down to his cheek pulsed with a pain long gone.

For ten long years after that day they were "partners".

Sweet memories.

Sweet memories that rivaled that of an apple gone rotten.

_Bullshit._

"Fill it up."

The bartender complied, passing him down his second drink that he drank down quickly. The bartender start to talk as he usual did whenever the thief visited the town. This time his tale was about the Ravus family treasure, a treasure that many coveted, and that have caused many treasure hunters and bandits to be tossed into the slammer. The thief asked for a head count. "A score," The bartender told him, "maybe more. The Ravus family isn't known to be kind to those that tried to steal their treasure." The bartender laughed, muttering something about the the poor thieves that flocked to the manor like moths, desperate for the light of the Ravus treasure. The bartender mentioned that the treasure was enough to buy up the whole town and then some.

Music to the thief's ears.

The man scoffed, "Just one town? What about the neighbors?" He passed down his empty glass. Pretending interest or any emotion as it were was his specialty. If he lived a different life, he could've been an actor with his type of talents. 

The bartender shook his head as he refilled the bandit's drink who mentioned that no one knew since no one has ever seen the treasure. He jabbed a thumb at the two brutes in the corner, "Even that master thief they keep talking about would have more than his hands full."

The thought of his legacy going down through spoken - no, written - history was enough to set his eyes on the manor. A thief's pride was a dangerous thing. Dare him to jump off of a cliffside and he'll do it without getting hurt, tell him he can't do something and he'll do it a thousand times. It was a dangerous thing for both the people around him and the thief alike as warnings and advise seemed distant from a mind set on doing something. Even then, the bartender's advise was distant. Nevertheless, the bandit thanked him for the warning.

He paid his tab like he always did and walked away, stopping only to tell the bartender a promise he intended on keeping, "Next time, I'll have a tale of my own."

Without another word, Therion stepped out into the town of Bolderfall, a town that arose from the dead the moment the sun came up.

_Another day, another manor, business as usual._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY made it to Therion! I'm really excited because I have a lot in store for Therion for the next few chapters!
> 
> Thank you everyone for the continued support as I keep writing! Honestly it makes me so glad to see that people are reading more and more of my story and I couldn't be any happier! 
> 
> If you guys have any advice or simply like the story consider leaving a comment! 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!


	11. Lady Luck is Laughin'

Robbed blindly, the trio from made their way into the town of Bolderfall by late afternoon. With hunting wild game out of the question due to how easily they evaded their attempts at catching them without a bow and arrow, their provisions had run out in the morning as they prepared breakfast and both Olberic and Primrose refused to eat another strand of the bitter, wild plants that grew in the Cliftlands for lunch much to Alfyn's counterarguments that it wasn't all that bad once they got used to the taste.

Using the rest of the leaves Primrose and Olberic had left, they bought enough food, stale bread and days old cheese from a traveling merchant, for the three of them that they split amongst themselves as they sat at a square in the middle of Bolderfall.

Earlier, Olberic assumed that the thief must've not gone too far and decided for them to ask the townspeople in the nearby village if they've seen a person carrying Alfyn's satchel. Although they split up to cover more ground in the hopes that they would find some hint of their thief, everyone they asked in both parts of the town either didn't know or told them to screw themselves and go bother others. Their mission to find Zeph's bag was only growing bleaker with the possibility of the thief moving on to the next town becoming more likely.

Although he was usually more optimistic about such situations, Alfyn groaned all morning into the afternoon about losing such a precious belonging much to Olberic's embarrassment of not being able to watch it in the first place. Primrose, on the other hand, was unamused at the wild goose chase, knowing very well that they've wasted valuable time.

"Aww geez," Alfyn moaned once more, guilt overflowing for having his friend's bag stolen, "it hasn't even been a week and I've already managed to lose his bag. He's going to kill me." The three of their stomachs growled, it was apparent that the stale bread and cheese wasn't enough to satisfy their hunger.

"Olberic," Primrose asked as she looked at the only two people in the square, merchants, talking about a letter of introduction, "why don't you go challenge them and demand every single provision of theirs ours if you won?"

Before Olberic could even take the idea into consideration and assume full responsibility, seeing as it was his fault - partially and indirectly Primrose's fault as well - for not keeping a close watch as he should've been and was ready to assume full responsibility for his actions, Alfyn spoke up, "What are you, crazy?" He shook his hands at Olberic and the giant sword he carried at his side, "Who would want to challenge this!? He looks like he'd eat anyone alive for lunch!"

Their stomaches growled even louder. Olberic sighed, "Please, not another word about food."

Primrose looked at the two merchants carefully as they spoke about how it was near impossible to even obtain a letter of introduction to the Ravus's manor. Although they seemed to be perfect unsuspecting victims to the charms of a lady such as herself, Primrose already tried to persuade them into giving her food by telling them empty promises of a good time but they rejected her outright even though they looked like they didn't want to. Apparently the town was in such a bad shape that it would cost money just to receive gifts, currency that her charms couldn't replace.

The merchants talking amongst themselves, however, gave Primrose the impression that there was one last place to look for. They stopped to rest without giving the area above the middle-class section a second thought as they knew, from the various pieces of information they gathered about the town, it was guarded by people employed by the Ravus family which had riches that could buy Bolderfall. Even if it was heavily guarded, surely even their little thief would try to steal from the manor that held such a treasure.

A person with white hair passing by, however, got a much different and needed piece of advice and headed back down into the lower section of Bolderfall to retrieve the coveted letter of introduction he needed to infiltrate the Ravus manor.

Primrose got up and headed in the opposite direction of the white haired man while Olberic and Alfyn, not sure what got into her, followed her.

The manor resembled that of her home back in Noblecourt, grand and emitting an aura that gave off that the manor held more secrets than actual treasure, but much more secure, evident by the grand stone wall meant to keep out intruders that attracted many thieves to the Ravus treasure. There were more guards guarding the place than in the entire town of Bolderfall which clearly showed Primrose why the poorer part of the town was in such a bad shape. If the family needed this many guards to make sure their treasure wasn't stolen she wouldn't have to worry about money for another day in her life if Primrose had that much wealth and prestige!

She singled out a solider off to the side, who was daydreaming about something or someone. As Olberic and Alfyn caught up to her, catching their breath as they finished climbing the huge stairway that led to the Ravus manor, and watched as Primrose worked her charms. "Afternoon, handsome," she purred at the solider, who was brought out of his daydream, "care to treat me and my friends to a bite to eat? We've had a long journey." She approached the man, closing the gap and making the solider uncomfortable, "I'll make it worth your time." A clear lie to trap her victim.

However, the trap failed as the man shook his head, "I-I cannot do such a thing! My heart," the man blushed slightly but was brought right back, "it belongs to another!"

A taken man. Primrose rolled her eyes as she saw that she failed once again. She instead decided to inquire about the mysterious thief, "Oh does it now? Well, have you by any chance seen anyone with a brown bag at the brink of falling apart? If you haven't then I'll be on my way before your lady notices I was ever here."

Again the solider shook his head, "No, I have not. If you'll excuse me, I have some training to do." The man started to get into a fighting position with his sword, striking through the air as if attacking an invisible enemy. _A man prepared to take on any foe for a lady_ , Primrose thought as she glanced over at Olberic,  _how charming_.

But charm would not lead them any closer to their thief.

Alfyn, a light of hope in his eyes as Primrose returned to the pair, inquired, "Anything new?" Primrose sadly shook her head much to Alfyn's disappointment. "Aw shucks, if worst comes to worst I'll see if there are any wild plants I can make brews out of and offer my services so we're not completely out of options." The worst has come to worst and, judging by how scarce the resources to make such healing concoctions were around the Cliftlands, the possibility of earning enough leaves to support themselves seemed so small, especially when the townspeople - middle class and lower class alike - themselves barely had anything left to offer them.

This predicament, much Primrose's frustration, put them back further than it should have. She looked at the other two, who seemed to share her thoughts about the whole ordeal. She sighed, glad to know that she wasn't alone in all of this. On the other hand, if she hadn't met them she would have been well on her way to Stillsnow if she survived Helgenish's battle in a different woven fate.

She sighed again.

Fate had its own way for now.

The three of them made their way down the steps leading back to, quite literally, square one. On their way down, they passed by a woman with black hair wearing a black gown. Scorching pain, twisted words, a wicked smile, the memory of the woman, her facial features blurred out, from Whispermill came back to haunt her as she looked at the woman with the corner of her eye. The woman passing by met her gaze with a wicked smile that seemed unnatural. Seeing her smile made Primrose's blood freeze up but she didn't know why. Upon seeing Alfyn, she frowned and turned her gaze back to the steps before her. Primrose did the same thing, the woman giving off an impression of familiarity.

A strange woman, Primrose thought as she kept her sights on the steps before her as she descended more and more down the stairs, down into another variable of the unknown mysterious that awaited her upon seeing the woman dressed in black.

* * *

_A town soaked with dread, the streets left unkept by the townspeople who hid in their homes out of fear for their new leader. Footsteps, fast approaching, and nothing but the sound of the rain as a pair ran for their lives, a heavy bag in the smaller of the two's hands. Had it been anyone else that the guards were looking for, they surely would've caught them and thrown them back to where they belonged. Luckily, they were dealing with two new thieving prodigies._

_The two hid at the bottom of a stairway leading to a drop off site for the local tavern's mead. They outsmarted the guards who thought they ran further ahead instead of hiding in the very area in which they stood. The pair exchanged a laugh as the footsteps faded away, leaving nothing but the sound of pouring rain. They might've been smaller than the strongest man in the town but they were much more cunning and swifter._

_The both of them examined their latest haul, the jewels and riches that was once kept safely in the private room of Riverford's latest lord now belonged to the duo. Long ago, Therion resorted to petty theft to steal stale bread and pickpocketing noblemen for a few dozen coins for himself to survive on. If someone told him then that he'd be stealing priceless riches from inside manors he might've believed them as he knew he was wicked good at what he does best. With a partner? He would've scoffed at the very idea. Babysitting someone was not what Therion intended on doing._

_After meeting Darius, however, he changed his mind about having a partner. Darius was the leader of the two, deciding where to go and what to take, while Therion was the mastermind, planning and theorizing their best options to take when stealing anything. The two worked so well together as if the noblemen themselves were graciously gifting them the jewels themselves, a fact that was crystal clear to Darius. He told Therion that the world was theirs for the taking and that the two would be the best thieves the world has ever seen. At the time, the master thief believed him._

_With Darius at his side, Therion thought they were unstoppable._

Therion shook his head at the memory, a memory provoked by the two brutes he saw earlier in the morning who asked if the three of them could worked together. Working together and Therion, two simple ideas that just didn't quite mesh well together anymore. He was a thief, not a caretaker for two brutes off the streets of Bolderfall with dreams that would be too out of reach. The burden of taking on two underlings and the possibility of them getting in the way, however, was not what caused the man to reject the offer.

It was fear.

Regardless, Therion had better things to do such as stealing his invitation to the Ravus manor. He passed by the manor earlier to witness a silk merchant getting turned down by the guards of the manor. Even though he looked and acted like a merchant of fine silks, the guards pressured him into proving it, telling him that his wares were not sufficient enough proof. Therion followed him to the town square in the hopes of knowing how to get his hands on a ticket in. The merchant chatted to another, who was also in the same predicament, and told him that only the most reputable of merchants doing business in the town of Bolderfall would be written a letter of introduction and have the pleasure of doing business with the Ravus family. Building such a reputation would take years, putting the other merchant's hopes of selling his fine silks to such a noble family down the drain.

Good thing stealing rather than selling was Therion's forte.

All one had to do was listen and the potential for work would come right in. Getting information on who had what was the easiest part of Therion's job as people, especially Orsterra's nobles, had a tendency to brag and gossip. Even though some people over exaggerate the truth, years of listening and staying quiet taught Therion how to distinguish a lie from a truth and a story from a tall tale. Such a talent made him able to read people easier like a supposed oracle or fortuneteller.

The merchant giving advice to another, for example, was just the esteemed gentlemen Therion was searching for in the lower part of Bolderfall. He overheard the merchant that all it took was years of experience to gain such a blessing from the Ravus family. Unfortunately for him, the merchant learned nothing from those experiences when it came to keeping his mouth closed and away from bandits.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Therion spoke as he approached the other two, the satchel under his shawl visible to both merchants, "I'm sorry but I couldn't help but overhear your conversation."

_Now for the hook._

He opened his satchel to reveal the items that he had inside to them, "I was wondering if by any chance you could tell me if my choice of wares would be any good for the Ravus family?" The unsuspecting target, who eyed the thief's rugged clothing, walked over to Therion, who gave him his best merchant smile.

_Line._

The merchant leaned in for a closer look as he inspected the herbs, carefully assessing the quality of each item Therion had in his bag. The front pocket of his black jacket revealed the letter of introduction. The merchant, focused on appeasing the other's wares, reached into the deeper corner of the bag, the opportunity for Therion presenting itself as the merchant grabbed the item he was looking for to inspect. Therion carefully slid the letter out of the man's pocket and quickly hid it behind his back as the merchant grabbed a vial of colorful red powder.

_Sinker._

The merchant, placing the vial back in the satchel, laughed at Therion as if he was in the presence of a sheer novice, "If the Ravus family had a need for an apothecary then there might just be some hope for you." He tided up the collar of his jacket, not noticing that his front pocket was just a bit lighter, "However, as a merchant, you might as well abandon all hope of ever stepping foot into the manor. Worry not, not everyone is born with a keen eye after all and perhaps one day you'll receive your letter of introduction."

Therion thanked the man and made his way out of the lower part of Bolderfall, leaving the two merchants to their private conversation. As he reached the way out, Therion eyed the sealed letter, laughing at how the merchant was so naive. "Maybe not as a merchant, but as a thief I'll have more of a chance than you ever will." The letter was tucked into the worn out pocket of the satchel. Lady luck smiled upon Therion once more as he started to make his way up the stairs.

Once at the top, Therion took out the satchel from under his shawl. Although it contained nothing valuable, it did help him achieve something that would later turn into an opportunity that would be priceless to Therion. If he ever crossed paths with the three travelers again, he would have to thank them. Quietly, of course.

He started to put away the satchel under his shawl and stopped when he noticed a presence approach him. Therion looked up, expecting the two brutes that probably weren't going to give up on the business opportunity they presented earlier, but found himself in front of the warrior, the dancer, and the medicine man he stole from earlier in the day.

They were looking at him.

Staring at the satchel barely visible under his shawl.

_…Shit._

The medicine man pointed at the satchel that was barely just visible, anger in his eyes, "That's my satchel!"

_Shitshitshitshit!_

The man took a step towards Therion, the intent of stealing back what was rightfully his made evident, and the thief took a step backwards. Therion noticed the axe that was hanging off the belt of the man in the green jacket and his eyes bounced off of him onto the warrior with a sword that was Therion's size, if not bigger, and the hidden dagger that stuck out of the dancer's slitted skirt. Analyzing the situation to fight or fly away never to return again was another thing that was his forte. Although Therion had a few encounters with more bandits and guards than a normal person could handle, something told him that he finally met his match.

Just as any thief would, he made a run for it into the lower part of Bolderfall.

He should have seen this coming from miles away. They were just outside of the town! How could he let the possibility of their encounter slip by him?

Therion skipped every other step as he ran down the stairs, the sound of feet stomping on wood growing in intensity as he made his way day. He heard the three of them shouting at him to return the stolen goods at once but Therion didn't look back as it would surely slow him down. The lower town of Bolderfall was much smaller than the other two levels of it which left Therion with little options to choose from when it came to hiding. If he chose to hide, there would be no doubt that they would quickly find him if they split up to inspect the area carefully. Outrunning them was out of the question as well for he would simply come to a dead end eventually as the only entrance and exit were the stairs from which he came from.

Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, a corner for the master thief.

Judging by how desperate they were to get the bag back, there was another option to choose from as he approached the edge of the cliff that was fenced off by wooden poles with cheap rope connecting them with one another.

Therion took off the satchel and held the strap in his hand. Once he saw that the three of them were present in front of his, he swung the bag over the edge, his hand firmly gripping the strap of the satchel. The action alone was enough to stop the man in the green jacket from further pursing the thief which prompted the other two to stop behind him as well.

A hostage situation, a classic trick. "Take another step and the man purse becomes ancient history." Therion warned them, his comment about the bag ticking off the man in green.

"It's a satchel!" Alfyn replied back to him in a factual tone, irritated that they found themselves cornered instead of cornering the bandit himself. There were plenty of guards to arrest bandits on the streets that did petty theft from what Alfyn saw. With any luck, the bandit that stole the satchel was afraid of the slammer as he was of being caught, "You'd better give it back otherwise we'll report you to the authority in town!"

Therion chuckled at the man's empty threat. Although he wouldn't dare find himself back in a jail cell once more, Therion was a master thief, one that hid his trails better than he knew how to pick them. He carefully unclenched the fist holding the strap of the satchel which caused it drop slightly and watched as Alfyn could do nothing but be at the mercy of the thief's words, "You and what evidence? Word of mouth? I polish my tracks cleaner than my reputation in this town so I suggest you try again."

During times of war, Olberic and Erhardt had plenty of run-ins with enemy soldiers wielding a blade to the neck of their comrades. Negotiating calmly and making deals in exchange for a life was nothing compared to the situation at hand. If the thief before them is nothing but human, then surely there was something he desired in exchange. Olberic spoke firmly, "State your terms, thief, state them clear and well."

 _So the tin man does have gears working_ , Therion thought to himself as he carefully toyed with the idea of an exchange. Toying around with ideas of what to request, he would usually ask for leaves, the three travelers looked like they carried nothing of the sort of currency he would've normally asked. The few leaves he found in the bag earlier that he used to pay for his drink was also evidence that discouraged Therion from asking for a hefty ransom.

His mind drifted to the heavy security in front of the Ravus manor. There was no doubt that security was doubled inside the very manor if any thief made it that far into the manor. An idea formed on his mind as soon as he inspected the three travelers. Although the idea of having companions or partners on such a fragile mission, Therion changed his perspective of the situation. They wouldn't be his partners or anything remotely close; rather, they would serve as his bait. He shared his idea with the other three, "Help me steal the Ravus family treasure," he paused for a second, letting the others realize the weight of his terms, "I'll give you back the purse and you'll never hear from me again. It's a fair win-win don't you think?"

Immediately Alfyn turned around to face his two companions who didn't have a moment to consider the idea. For a fair and honest man who has given up the life of trickery long ago, Alfyn made it clear that he was against the idea, "No? No! We are not helpin' a dirty rotten bandit like him!"

Olberic crossed his arms and nodded his head in agreement, "Aye, helping the thief would make us no better than him, this much is true." His friend's precious satchel was on his mind as he thought of a way to unravel the current situation but found no easy - or any at all- solutions. He looked to Alfyn for an answer, "But, how else do you expect to retrieve the bag?"

Alfyn, clearly stressing out over the fact of forever losing his friend's gift after just finding it again, thought to Primrose's dark magic and got an irrational idea, "Primrose, use your dance to… I don't know petrify him or somethin'!" An icy mist started to gather from his hand, "Or, better yet, maybe I'll do it!"

Although Primrose learned to better control her dark magic, she was doubtful that she could easily do such a thing, let alone be possible to accomplish in general. She placed a firm hand on his arm, causing him to lose his focus on forming any type of ice magic, "First of all, I don't think such a thing is even possible. Even if either of us uses magic I'm sure the thief is quick enough to evade anything we do which puts us in a worse spot." A piece of paper was waved in front of the other two's faces, a smile curled on her lips, "Second of all, I have a better idea."

Primrose lifted up the letter of introduction in her hand up high so that the thief could clearly see what it was. Upon realizing what it was, Therion checked the front pocket in which he stored the letter only to find that his hand had gone through. The stitches that held the pocket together, in the heat of the moment when Therion ran down the stairs, came undone.

He cursed Lady Luck, who was surely laughing at his misfortune.

Primrose delicately opened the letter, lifting the Ravus family symbol wax seal, her eyes fluttering at the thief who stood very still as he watched her read it out loud, "To the  _honorable_  merchant Sir Samuel Copperstone of Rippletide." Primrose judged the thief before her, looking him up and down, "You don't seem to be very honorable so for you to steal this from our dear Samuel," She held the letter in between her fingertips, the canyon's wind blowing on the edges of the paper, "this letter must be something important to you."

Although the dancer made her strategic move in this chess like negotiation, Therion couldn't help but admire another's keen eye. His face and attitude, however, remained firm, "Oh, that old thing?" A hand waved, a gesture that the letter meant nothing to him. "There are plenty of other letters out in the world to get my own invitation from." Although he spoke a shred of truth, Therion wasn't sure if Lady Luck and Aeber were both going to be merciful in granting him a second chance. Nevertheless, he placed down his own words, another pawn, to challenge the dancer's attempts at making him falter.

_Check._

A good move to the dancer as she contemplated on what to say next. She thought carefully about the thief's terms and how to make the deal fair seeing as they each owned something they wanted. She spoke again, "We'll help you-"

_Check._

Alfyn, choosing not hear another word of her suggestion, started to make her way toward her fully set on shaking sense into her only to be stopped by Olberic's hand that was placed on his shoulder. "Did ya not hear a word I said!"

"Shut up." Therion's calm voice broke through Alfyn's, who shot a glance back at him with an offended look on his face. Therion put a finger to his lips, "The adults are talking." Before Alfyn could insult the man back, Olberic placed his other hand over his mouth to muffle everything Alfyn barked at the bandit as he was held back by the warrior.

Therion motioned for her to continue, she nodded in response, "As I was saying, we'll help you only if you agree to split the costs in half." She jabbed a thumb at the restrained Alfyn, "and if you let our friend Alfyn see to it that you meet your end of the bargain." The comment made Alfyn stop his struggle against being freed, looking at Primrose to see if she was joking about him accompanying the thief. She was not, "After all it is his satchel and it would only be fair if he saw to it that you completed your end of the deal."

_Check?_

Therion shook his head, "Sorry, lady, but I don't do shows for audiences," he shot a look of warning at Alfyn, "especially not an audience with kids."

_Check._

Primrose smiled, the sound of Alfyn's struggle to strangle the thief over his disrespect distant. Therion's personality was something she had seen in the many men she met in Sunshade and one that she found easy in handling, "But surely a talented thief such as yourself should have no problem in having someone watch unless," She looked at him, stroking his ego only to shatter it in an instant, "you're not the master thief you make yourself out to be."

A thief's pride was a dangerous thing indeed for both the people around and the thief himself. Therion sighed and rolled his eyes, not letting the latter comment get to him even though he fell right into her trap, gifting his pride right into the dancer's palm, "…we'll split the treasure seventy-five, twenty-five and call it even."

She nodded, agreeing with the term seeing that twenty-five percent of the treasure would be more than enough to buy them anything they wanted on her and her companions' journey, "And what should we call you, my dear master thief?"

He reached out an open hand to Primrose, a gesture that their deal would be set in stone, "Therion. I'd call that title of master thief self-proclaimed but I think the tavern tales about me are more than enough to make it more than just that."

Primrose extended her own hand out to the thief and shook on the terms, sealing the deal.

_Checkmate._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ran into a little bit of a writer's block with this chapter specifically and the next few so really hoping it delivered itself well. Might be slow on the next few chapters due to college finally hitting me but I won't give up!
> 
> Next chapter we have the Ravus Manor heist which I'm really excited to write!
> 
> Thank you guys so much for the continued support and, as always, thank you for reading!


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